


The Other Side of the Mirror

by Random_WordBender



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Long, Politics, Slow Burn, Zutara Week 2017, because 'Fire Lord' is an important title, because this story has a life of its own
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:53:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_WordBender/pseuds/Random_WordBender
Summary: 4-5 years after the end of the war. Aang and Katara have settled for the time being at the Southern Air Temple, with the new acolytes; Sokko and Suki are on Kyoshi, hashing out a life together; Toph is travelling and refining her metalbending with her students; Zuko has retained the throne despite one or two assassination attempts and a rebellion.Katara and Aang realise that love is more complicated than the stories they've learned, Sokka and Suki discover what peacetime feels like, Toph...remains Toph, and Zuko discovers what kind of man he can be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. All A:TLA canon, including the comic books, is accepted. This divergence occurs after, and contradicts Korra canon.
> 
> 2\. I didn't even know Zutara Week existed, until recently, so I guess this will just have to be a REALLY late addition
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any of its characters. This is a work of fan-fiction only.

**Chapter 1**

 

Air Temple

“We were young.”

“Yes we were.”

“Things were a lot simpler then.”

“There was a war!”

“Sure, but it was still simple: defeat Ozai, win the war, get the girl, live happily ever after. Simple.”

“ _Get_ the girl?” Blue eyes flashed, as she glanced up from the vista in front of them. She raised a brow, one hand gripping the balcony balustrade in front of her.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Katara! It’s just – I mean –“ Aang swiped one hand across the back of his neck in consternation, grey eyes pleading. He sighed. “I was young. And a bit foolish.” Katara relented, her gaze softening as she turned back to the darkening twilight, an answering sigh escaping her lips.

“We both were. A bit foolish, I mean.” A wry smile played on her face, as she leaned both elbows on the balustrade. “Why did nobody warn us that love can be so…complicated?”

“I guess that’s something everybody has to discover on their own. I mean, you tried to tell me once, but I was too blind – or obstinate – to listen. And then I guess with the euphoria from winning the war…maybe we thought that was what it felt like. It was practically expected of us, and we went with it, and then we were focussing on the rebellions and Zuko’s mom and the repatriations and - and by then it just became habit.” He leaned on the balustrade next to her, crossing one foot behind the other. The truth of his words struck her, and for a moment Katara marvelled at how – despite being only sixteen – he could still be very wise sometimes.

Companionable silence fell over them, as they contemplated the coming night, both trying to ignore the events of the last hour. An impossible task.

*

_“So how does it feel to be sixteen?” She’d asked, her arms loosely wound around his waist. He’d leaned down to give her a chaste peck on the lips, and she’d marked how he’d shot up in height, over the last year and a half. She dutifully accepted his kiss before tightening her arms to give a hug._

_“No different than when I was fifteen, three days ago.” He chuckled, his voice rumbling in his chest. She looked up again, and shared the chuckle, and he thought to himself_ ‘Now. Now is the right time.’

_So he’d leaned down and kissed her again, but this time with more pressure, angling his head slightly to deepen the kiss. He’d prayed that the scrolls he’d discovered on the bedroom arts were accurate, because he wanted everything to be perfect. They had been reasonably detailed on the mechanics of it all, but hadn’t really touched on the sensations that were supposed to be involved._

_Katara was slightly startled at the difference in his kiss, but not by much. They’d been dancing around this aspect of their relationship for years. Mostly because both of them had silently agreed to wait a while, to try and be kids for a little longer. But now, she knew, there was no reason to avoid it any more. She instinctively parted her lips slightly, and tentatively touched her tongue to the crease of his mouth. He eagerly mimicked her, their tongues meeting and dancing around each other, his hands tightening slightly at her hips._

_It went on for several minutes and, feeling somewhat emboldened, they allowed their hands to roam. Hers stroking up his back to bring him closer, his stroking down, then up, before spanning her ribs just below her breasts. The kiss broke as they came up for air and they stared at each other in mutual confusion._

_“_ _That was…nice.” She lowered her gaze, her grip on him loosening, a hand coming round to pick at a bit of fluff she spied on his robe. For the life of her, she could not find a better word, and she knew that this slightly uncomfortable empty feeling inside her was creeping over him too. His hands had settled back at her waist. She looked up again to search his eyes, and saw a myriad of emotions flitting across his open face as he looked back at her._

_Gran-Gran had explained to her what went on in the bedchamber, during a visit last year, since it seemed likely that she and Aang would be getting serious quite soon. There was the talk of what went where, but Katara had already gathered most of that from her time studying healing and midwifery “But how do you know you’re doing it with the right one?” she’d asked. The reply had been simple but confusing “It’s different for everyone, child, but for me…the first time we kissed, it felt like I’d put my foot on loose snow and I was falling into a crevasse, and then my heart started tripping over itself, and everything was suddenly warmer, like the birth of a little sun inside my body. But everyone can agree on one thing: you’ll know it when you feel it”_

_And now standing here with Aang, the boy – almost man – that she had decided to spend her life with, she was confused. She loved him. She knew she did. It was there in her chest, like a buoyant bubble of warmth. And as they kissed, she’d expected something to happen, expected something more. But the longer they tried the more it felt like she was trying to force that ‘more’ to happen. She hadn’t felt it, whatever ‘it’ was, and she knew he hadn’t either. She licked her lips._

_“Should –should we try again?” Her voice sounded hollow to her ears. He hadn’t spoken once, and she suddenly felt worried for him. He took a deep breath, and released it as he shook his head. There was a bleakness to his eyes and his hands slipped from her waist, as he leaned back a little. Finally taking her hands in his, he bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead._

_She needed to get some air._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why this story: Something has always bothered me about how Zutara was swept away as inconsequential. Kataang felt forced, too neat, and far too simple. The comics underlined my misgivings on Kataang, instead of reinforcing the validity of the 'ship. (Probably because I started A:TLA as an adult, and perceived the various relationships through adult eyes)
> 
> Love is complicated, and requires more than just the expectation of the ‘Hero getting the girl’.
> 
> So this story came into being almost as a reflex: My brain trying to tell the story that SHOULD have happened.
> 
> I've read through several pages of Zutara fanfics now, and finally decided to write my version. If it mirrors anyone else's thoughts/story, I apologise - this story wanted out of my brain, before I'd managed five pages of the Zutara archive
> 
> I originally thought it would be three or four chapters, but it seems to be turning into a book.  
> I hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I won't be doing summaries for each chapter. The summary at the beginning of the work should give enough idea)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. By now you're wondering "Why Mature rating?". Patience, dear reader. It's coming. (Eventually. When the story lets me. :) )
> 
> 2\. Quick note about the character ages: it occurred to me that they would all have different birthdays, so I see Zuko as being the first birthday of the year near the beginning, Toph would be next - around the first equinox, Katara would be in the middle of the year, and Aang would be around the second equinox - about six months after Toph. This will explain why Zuko is already 22, Katara 19, but Aang only just 16. 
> 
> 3\. Sokka and Suki don't feature over-much in this story (that I know of, yet, anyway) Sorry about that!

**Chapter 2**

Air Temple/Ba Sing Se

Three days later, she was packed and ready to go. She felt a little bad for leaving so quickly, but suddenly it was almost claustrophobic in the temple. She needed to get out, needed to see the world with her new eyes, needed to find herself. Aang had known this almost before she did, and had immediately offered to take her wherever she wanted to go with Appa. She could feel his sadness – it mirrored her own – and she nearly told him to forget it, that they would get around this, _somehow_. But they both knew that this was the end.

She found him at the stable, already tightening Appa’s saddle. They spoke little, as she loaded her pack, and climbed up. There wasn’t much that needed to be said. They’d spoken long into the small hours of that night, exploring what had happened, reaffirming their friendship, discussing possible plans now that they weren’t going to be joined at the hip anymore. She’d said her goodbyes to the acolytes last night. Every one of them had been shocked, but she and Aang had soothed them and by the end, they were celebrating the beginning of her new adventure.

The rest of the time had been spent putting her room in order, making sure that her non-bender healing assistant could carry on without her, and trying to decide where she wanted to go. That had been the hardest part: she had never made a plan for ‘After Aang’. They were supposed to have been together forever. She’d cried then. Not for love lost, but from frustration and a touch of fear at the uncertainty looming in her life. Finally though, she had felt ready to make some sort of plan.

“So. Where to?” She glanced up and realised that he had mounted Appa while she was wool-gathering. His expression was kind, and there even seemed to be a touch of excitement at the idea of the unknown, his eyes crinkling in a heart-wrenching reminder of the boy he used to be. She swallowed, then returned his smile. They’d be alright.

“Ba Sing Se - the Jasmine Dragon, if you please, kind sir!” she quipped, excitement and fun starting to well up in her. With a ‘Yip-yip’, Appa jumped into the air, and they were away. A weight slid from Katara’s shoulders, as she felt the dawning sun warm her face.

 *

Appa landed in the outer courtyard of the Dragon with a gratified ‘whumpf’, as he spied a haystack in one corner of the open area. They barely had a chance to dismount, packs in hand, before he was jogging over to bury his head in the pile.

“That’s OK, buddy, you go ahead and eat.” Aang called affectionately, as they made their way to the doorway, chuckling. The heady scent of jasmine tea greeted them as they entered and Katara’s spirits lifted even higher, when she recognised the familiar figure leaning over the Pai-Sho table dominating the back corner of the room.  
  
“Uncle Iroh!” Aang called, noticing him at the same time. Iroh glanced up, and his face split into a grin as he swiftly rose and came to meet them.

“Avatar Aang! You do my tea shop great honour. Welcome! And Master Katara too! Come, sit, let us share some tea, and you can tell me all about your adventures.” With ease of practice, he ushered them to a table and in no time they were all enjoying his finest brew and laughing over stories old and new.  
Katara’s gnawing guilt at not immediately returning to the South Pole steadily evaporated. She had made the right choice by coming here. She would have to return eventually, she knew, but she wasn’t ready to face the pity and false cheer her family would offer, when she told them the first love of her life was not real. Iroh’s easy acceptance, when they explained why Aang would be leaving without her, was like balm. He didn’t question, didn’t tell her how to feel, simply nodded, and poured more tea.

They were both offered rooms above the tea shop, as it was too late for Aang to consider flying out again. The next morning dawned clear and bright, and they made their way downstairs for breakfast at first light. Iroh brewed a last pot of tea, then said his farewells and returned to his room to meditate. They stood next to Appa, watching the city around them wake. On impulse, Katara grabbed him in a fierce bear-hug.

“Take care of yourself!”

“You too” His arms tightened around her briefly before they stepped away from one another, hearts full. There was still love, but they both recognised it now as the love of comrades-in-arms, of best friends, of family. It would take time to adjust to the idea, Katara knew, but this felt right. She leaned on tip-toe to give him a firm kiss on the cheek.

“Be safe” She whispered. He smiled cockily before leaping onto Appa’s neck.

“Hey, I’m the Avatar. I think I’ll be OK.” Gathering the reigns, he looked down at her one last time, winking as Appa launched himself into the air. She waved up at them then gave a delighted giggle, as they swung into a flamboyant loop-de-loop, before banking South. She waved until they were out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I gave Zuko a slight shift of character, because he can't be an angsty teen forever, now can he? I tried to imagine what sort of man he'd become, given all the information we have.  
> I hope you like him!
> 
> 2\. I've taken liberties adding in a wedding tradition, since not a lot of info was available

**Chapter 3**

Fire Capital

“My Lord, if I may make so bold, perhaps my Lord does not understand – that is, perhaps it is not clear – I mean to say -“  
  
Zuko fought the urge to growl. Four years since his father’s defeat, three years since the Yu Dao debacle, two and a half years since Azula’s attempt to shred his honour. And yet his advisors still quailed and quivered when they spoke to him. Did they fear he would suddenly turn into Ozai overnight? Taking a calming breath, he raised his hand to silence the man’s twittering.

“Minister Yao, I have many pressing meetings today. Please feel free to be blunt.” The man visibly swallowed, tugging slightly at the high collar of his formal robes.

“There is some worry among the ministers and noble houses, that Your Majesty has not yet made clear your intention to take a wife. Tradition dictates that Your Majesty be wed by your twenty-fifth birthday, especially as you have no _eligible_ heir. I would not have raised this, had the Lady Mai remained – “

“Lady Mai is free to make her decisions as she wishes. She did not wish to be made Fire Lady, and I do not wish to force _any_ woman into an undesired union.” Zuko interrupted in a flat tone. The unspoken words “ _like my mother_ ” hung between them. Minister Yao swallowed again, before bowing in respect.

“Of course my Lord, I merely wished to say that now that she is no longer your chosen companion, it is imperative that my Lord turn some of his very valuable time to seeking a new consort.”

“I recognise your concern, Minister, and thank you for the care and attention you have paid to this issue. However, I am also well aware of tradition and assure you that _three years_ from now it will no longer be an issue.” His emphasis made it clear what he thought of the Minister’s anxiety, but not so heavily that he was outright dismissive of the notion. An inner part of himself nodded in satisfaction. He had been one of the youngest Fire Lords ever to take the throne, and – without the benefit of formal training during his exile - he had had to learn the intricacies of politics very fast. But learn he had. At twenty-two years of age, he finally felt confident enough to speak as a man and as a ruler, without second-guessing himself.

“Absolutely, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord!” Bowing repeatedly, Yao took five steps backwards before turning and exiting the audience chamber, the ornate door clanging shut behind him. Zuko stood, taking a short break to stretch the muscles in his back, and wearily pinch the bridge of his nose. His guards knew not to open the doors until he had resumed his place on the dais.

He should have known the subject would be brought up sooner or later. He needed an heir. He needed one _now_ , to ensure that Azula’s claim would be set aside for good. To get an heir, he needed a wife. Scrubbing his hands down his face, he sighed. Things were simpler before he was crowned. Mai had seemed to be the girl of his dreams, but then she’d ended it. He couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t been the most exemplary of boyfriends; racing off at a moment’s notice to fix problems, working until all hours to clean up the Agni-cursed mess his father and grandfather had made.

It had hurt, obviously. He had cared for her – still did, if he were honest – and he was reasonably certain that she had cared for him. When Azula had reappeared, with her deranged plans to kidnap Mai’s brother, he had felt some of the old spark between them. As they worked to uncover the plot against him, he had even hoped that he could reignite it. But she was already with another, and he had stepped aside, as was honourable. When he got word that she had broken up with the boy, he had jumped at the excuse to visit her.

That had been a mistake. Her hurt was too fresh. Whatever feelings she may have had for him were buried beneath pain, guilt, and anger. She had looked at him without expression, and said only one word to him, the entire time he was there. “No”. Her tone was flat, passionless, disinterested. He hadn’t seen her after that, and later discovered that she had left the city. 

In retrospect, Zuko knew with absolute certainty that they had never been right for each other. She had been attracted to his anger and angst, and he had been attracted to her absolute disinterest and dislike of the world. Hardly a healthy combination. Then he had learned to control his emotions, and she had discovered that sometimes it was alright to be enthusiastic about things. And it seemed as though they no longer had that much in common, except a collection of in-jokes and a certain aggressive attraction.

But he was old enough now to know that attraction alone was not a good basis for a relationship. Sokka had visited briefly, when it was time for Suki and her warriors to hand over their duties to his newly-trained personal guard. He’d watched them together; bantering, sometimes arguing, sometimes holding each other quietly. And always he was made poignantly aware of the respect and honesty between them. As a couple, they weren’t a heated mess of emotion and aggression and indifference, as he and Mai had been. They were two individual people who brought out the best traits in each other, who would willingly die to keep the other alive. Was it too much to ask, that he could also find the woman so perfect that he would willingly sacrifice his life for her? He paused...A woman he would willingly die for...

The half-formed thought was halted by the sound of one of his guards clearing her throat. He had taken too long. Seating himself again, he waved a hand, indicating that the next person should be shown in. His musings were swept aside, as he narrowed his attention to yet another civil dispute.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I took liberties again, because I believe that PTSD is a very real consequence of the battles these kids fought.
> 
> 2\. Since Lin Beifong's lineage was never made clear, and it seems to be implied that she and her sister have different fathers (I'm going on hearsay, here, please correct me if I'm wrong), I've decided that Toph is confident enough to explore her sexuality, without the ties of marriage. It seems to fit her personality quite well.

**Chapter 4**

Ba Sing Se

She woke up screaming, her limbs flailing against sheets which had wrapped too tightly around her during the night. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the peach-tinted light softly filtering through the window. Lightning was imprinted on her mind’s eye. A single deadly bolt coming right for her, the crazed screams of a madwoman echoed in her brain, and, in the dark and silence that followed, the knowledge that she was _too late_.

Gingerly she unwrapped her legs from the clinging sheets, placing her feet firmly on the floor, eyes screwed shut as she took several calming breaths.

“Katara? Are you OK?” She glanced at the door, and breathed a sigh of relief. Unshakeable as an iron pillar, Toph stood in her doorway, one hand roughly scrubbing the sleep from her pale eyes.

“Just a nightmare, Toph. Sorry I woke you” Her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed.

“Don’t sweat it, sweetness. I’ll just make you pay for it later.” An evil grin split her face as she ambled into the room and sat down next to Katara. “Want to talk about it?”

“No it’s OK, it’s just nightmares from…from…” She stumbled to a halt. She didn’t know why she felt shame. Iroh had confided that all soldiers carried War Ghosts with them, when they left the battlefield. It was the mind’s way of dealing with everything they had been through, after the fact, since there wasn’t time to stop and think about the horror while they were in it. “Just War Ghosts.” she muttered quietly. Toph put a steady hand on her arm, squeezing slightly.

“Yeah, I get those too sometimes.”

“We all do, I think. Even Aang – “ She took another breath. Until now, not even Aang had known about her nightmares. She’d always been the one to comfort _him_ when he woke up, tearing his room apart, bending in his sleep.

Iroh had been the first to notice, and had told her that it was nothing to be ashamed of. Even he – the great Dragon of the West – had had his share of nightmares. _“It will pass, my dear. There is no shame in fearing for your life, after everything you went through”._ A sharp punch to her bicep brought her back to the present.

“Ow!”

“Enough moping! We’re going out!” Toph hopped up from the bed. Katara couldn’t help sharing Toph’s grin.

“Ooh yes! Let’s go to that spa and – “ A hand shot into her face, narrowly missing her nose.

“No spas, Sugar Queen! I heard there’s a regular earth-bending tourney in the middle ring, and, as payment for waking me up before sunrise, you’re going with me.” She gave a gamin smile before sauntering out the door. Katara chuckled wryly, got off her bed, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

It had been a month and a half since Aang had left her here. She’d travelled to some of the outlying villages and towns, offering her healing services in exchange for local herb knowledge, or bed and board. Every now and then she’d return to the tea shop, laden with herbs and stories for Iroh. He had never asked her why she didn’t head South, never pressured her to talk about Aang, and she had come to love him as an endearing uncle, always ready with a new blend of tea, or a wise word. She appreciated the calm, and he appreciated the extra help, when she was in town.

Then Toph had wandered in one day about a week ago, and Katara realised how much she had missed the younger girl’s brash attitude and indomitable confidence. Telling her about the break-up had come far easier (and far sooner) than she’d expected.

*

_“So you and Aang, huh?” Toph had said, after their conversation had fallen into a lull. Wide-eyed, Katara swung her head to search her face_

_“How did you -?”_

_“Didn’t you know I’m psychic?” she’d laughed then waved a hand dismissively “Nah, I figured it out. Also he mighta kinda mentioned to me that you two were done.”_

_“He did? When did you see him?”_

_“I didn’t_ see _him. He wrote to ask about the school, and how Yu Dao was doing, and slipped in that you weren’t around. Probably thought I wouldn’t notice. But that’s Twinkle-toes…always trying to glide around an issue, instead of just coming at it head-on.” She cracked her knuckles, making Katara squirm at the sound “Anyway, the way you were NOT talking about him, and the fact that you pretty much have a permanent room here told me the rest.” In a very Toph-like gesture, she leaned back in her chair, arms braced behind her head, clearly pleased with herself. Katara sighed._

_“Yeah. Well. It’s – We’re done.” She took a sip of her tea, mentally bracing herself for the questions to come. Toph had never been known for her subtlety or sensitivity._

_“Can’t say I’m surprised.” Katara nearly choked on her tea._

_“Huh?”_

_“To be honest, Sweetness, you guys were cute together and all? But my feet weren’t telling me a whole lot more than that. There wasn’t a spark, no triple-heartbeat, no trembling, no change in voice tone, nothing to indicate that you were more than really close family.”_

_“Oh.” She frowned, idly drawing circles on the table in front of her. “Is that what it feels like?”_

_“That’s what I’ve gathered. Really old couples – you know, who have been together, like, since the beginning of the war – they’re really cute, but there’s still the little things: he’ll talk about her, and his heartbeat will change, or she’ll kiss his cheek, and I’ll feel – almost like more warmth coming from them, y’know?”_

_“I guess…I felt warm with Aang. But trembling?”_

_“Well he didn’t make your knees weak, see?”_

_“I – I guess…” Toph rolled her eyes_

_“He’s all grown up, he’s becoming a man now, all his muscles are filling out properly. I’m no expert, but I gather he’s a pretty good-looking guy, right?”_

_“Yes, he is quite handsome -  “_

_“Well, if you’re attracted to him - physically, I mean – it’s supposed to feel like your knees are turning to mush, and your stomach goes all trembly” Pretending to inspect her fingernails, she added nonchalantly “That’s how I figure out which guys are attracted to me…” For a second time Katara nearly choked_

_“Toph! Have you- you-_ you know!?” _Her eyes darted over the younger girl’s form, realising that she had filled out, since last they’d seen each other. Gone was the almost boyish frame, replaced by the definite curve of breast and hip beneath her doublet. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but she was definitely striking, in an athletic way. The younger girl never voiced an answer, simply giving a smug grin, as she picked the dirt from under her finger nails._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. More tradition liberties taken. 
> 
> 2\. I'm not sure I got Iroh correct, here. I may have to edit his words at some point. (Though I've always enjoyed this dynamic between him and Toph.)
> 
> 3\. The idea of how bending occurs in children was borrowed from TunnelRabbit in 'Book 4: Harmony' (http://archiveofourown.org/works/10173911/chapters/22598069)  
> I hope you don't mind, TunnelRabbit - it just made the most sense.

**Chapter 5**

Ba Sing Se

“Oh Spirits, the _look_ on his face!”  
  
“I know! I don’t think I’ve ever seen any guy run that fast!”  
  
Iroh looked up from the letter in his hand, his reverie interrupted by a gale of girlish giggling from outside the tea shop door. With some exaggerated “shushing” and a few more giggles, the door swung hesitantly open, Katara and Toph poking their heads around the jamb, before tumbling unceremoniously onto the floor just inside the darkened shop. They burst into all-out laughter as they lay in a muddled heap. Iroh shook his head, a benevolent smile tugging at his lips.

“Good evening, ladies. It looks like you had a very enjoyable evening.” With a flick of his wrist, he bent a few more lamps alight, to amplify the single lamp on the table next to him.

“You bet!” Toph chuckled, none-too-steadily extricating herself from the mess of limbs on the floor, and turning to help Katara up. “Some knucklehead thought he was hot stuff, and tried to make out with Katara.” She snorted.

“I take it his advances were suitably rebuffed?” He chuckled. He could just imagine the fate that awaited _anyone_ fool enough to force the fierce Waterbender to do anything she didn’t want to. Katara blushed, a little abashed.

“I, uh, froze his loin-cloth with my drink.” Toph collapsed into another fit of snorted laughter.

“It was beautiful! He didn’t even see it coming! Didn’t think you’d go _that_ far, Sweetness!”

“Well, he was _very_ insistent.” Katara sniffed, suddenly a little uncomfortable. A change of subject seemed like a good idea, so she focussed on the letter in Iroh’s hand. “I hope that’s good news?” A fatherly smile crinkled his eyes.

“Just a letter from Zuko. Mostly politics and the like.”

“Oh? How is he doing?” Katara tried to keep her voice steady. She’d had another nightmare last night; the sense of being _too late_ haunted her.

“He is very well. He writes about state affairs, mostly. Though these days he rarely asks advice. He is finally coming into his own as Fire Lord.” Pride touched his face, as he glanced down at the letter. _Though he still asks for advice, when it matters_ he added to himself, the word “marriage” jumping at him from his nephew’s dense hand. Unnoticed by both, Toph’s head shot up, eyebrows snapping together, suddenly alert.

“That’s good to hear.” Katara smiled, then hid a yawn. “Well, I need to go lie down. Hopefully the world will stop spinning soon.”

“Of course, my dear, sleep well!”

“’Night, Sweetness!” Toph called, grabbing a chair as Katara waved a hand in answer and headed to the stairs. Plonking herself down facing Iroh, she fixed him with a sightless stare and raised her eyebrows. “So what advice does the great Fire Lord need these days?” Iroh bit back a laugh.

“Has anyone told you, Master Toph, that you are too perceptive by half?”

“Well I am the greatest Earthbender who ever lived, so they don’t need to” Toph grinned at him, leaning back in her chair. “But I can stand to hear it a bit more.” Iroh laughed aloud this time.

“Indeed, indeed.”

“So what news, Uncle? Because my feet have just told me a very interesting story, and I might be convinced to share it with you.” Her grin widened, as her head flicked slightly in the direction where Katara had just disappeared. Iroh’s eyes widened, then narrowed in speculation.

“My nephew is asking advice on seeking a wife. His advisors are hounding him for a successor, and he is worried that he will have to continue the tradition of arranged marriage... “ He said slowly, gauging the girl’s reaction. With a thump, the front legs of the chair she’d been rocking on came to the floor. She steepled her hands on the table in front of her, leaning forward.

“Does she necessarily have to be Fire Nation?”

“Well, there are no modern records that indicate a foreigner becoming consort, though I am sure there have been cases in the distant past – certainly my father likely eradicated any evidence of them.” Iroh was thoughtful, leaning his head in one hand as he considered. “In this day and age, it may be possible to create the need for a political alliance between Nations. Of course, the possibility of an heir who is not a Firebender might be too great a risk…” he trailed off

“But if both parents are benders, then the child’s likelihood of not only being a Bender, but of taking the prevalent Bending of their environment, is quite high.” Toph pointed out

“How do you know that?”

“Dated a student from Ba Sing Se university for a couple of months.” She shrugged “He was fun, but got a bit clingy, if you know what I mean.” For a couple of seconds all Iroh could do was sit and stare at her.

When Zuko had appeared at the White Lotus camp with his new friends - what felt like eons ago - Iroh had noticed the change in his nephew immediately. It had been war time, so there wasn’t much time to think about it; not when he was facing the final siege of Ba Sing Se and the almost inevitable destruction of his brother and niece. But he had seen the way they had interacted, and wondered… There was no denying he had grown quite fond of Katara during the two months she had been staying at the shop. He would be honored to welcome such a gifted young lady to the family. But...He shook his head. He was done trying to manipulate Zuko’s life, wasn’t he?

“What story do your feet tell you, my dear?”

“Weak knees.” She stated matter-of-factly “The good kind.”

“And you think – “

“I don’t think, I _know_. They work well together. Better than I’ve seen most _old_ couples work. No offence”

“None taken.” He leaned back. “You have a very devious mind, Master Toph –“

“Thank you!” She went back to rocking her chair

“ – but I am not sure we should be forcing anything to happen.”

“Who said we would force? I know what my feet see. Until now, she was with the Avatar, but now she’s free to make her own choices. All we really have to do is get them into the same room, and hope that I’m right.” She waved her hand decisively for emphasis. “It’s about time she and I went to visit friends and family, anyway. All I can do is give it a chance. But I’m pretty sure this will work.”

“My dear, I truly fear for the man you decide to settle with. He has his work cut out for him! “ Iroh’s face split into a grin, as he reached for his writing set and a fresh sheet of paper. Toph gave a guffaw.

“You and me both, Uncle.”

*

In the room above them, oblivious to their plotting, Katara lay shivering, her mind flooded with lightnng and screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OF COURSE Toph and Iroh would plot this sort of thing together!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Yes, more liberties! This time with bending forms. (I guess from now on where I've created and named things that don't necessarily exist in the ATLA world, you can assume I took liberties.)
> 
> 2\. The beginning of this chapter was also a bit gratuitous on my part. I've always found watching Zuko bend to be very... hypnotic.

**Chapter 6**

Fire Capital

_Dodge. Weave. Roll. The Fire Lily Blooms. The Tiger-Moose Sweeps Grass. The Horse-Midge in Flight. Bamboo Harvest. An Eagle-Moth Descends._

_Again. Faster. Breathe. Duck. Weave. The Dancing Dragon. The Sun Sets over Water…_

Taking a deep breath, his hands meeting in the final form of the kata, Zuko allowed his frustrations of the day to escape him and sank to the floor cross-legged, his eyes closed in contemplation.  
When he was younger, he couldn’t understand what Uncle had meant about meditation. Sitting still and doing nothing was frustrating at best, infuriating at worst.  
Now, however, it was his only moment of peace in the circus that was post-war politics. The only time he could concentrate on anything other than being the ruler that his people both wanted and deserved. There was so much that he should apologise to his uncle for; not that any apology would be accepted. Iroh had made it clear that all was forgiven, when Zuko had finally discovered the correct path to walk.

He wished his advisors could be so forgiving, sometimes. If they weren’t quaking in their boots, they were blatantly contradicting him. Trade negotiations and peace treaties aside, this marriage question was taking on a ridiculous level of importance. He knew that they feared Azula’s return… _Did they, though?_ An insidious part of himself whispered. _Surely one or two wish for the old days?_  
With a deep breath he banished the thought and blew it out as a fireball. He would get nowhere thinking like that. But he would also have a hard time if the suspicion turned out to be true. Ex-Governor Ukano’s betrayal  was still fresh, despite being nearly three years in the past. He would have to be more vigilant at council meetings. Ensure that there were no vipers in his court.

A rasp of metal alerted him to the presence of another in the training courtyard. His eyes slid open, impaling the intruder who stood a respectful twenty paces away. A royal messenger, he saw, judging by the gold-worked riding clothes. The messenger bowed low, and retrieved a scroll from a leather tube at his belt.

“News from General Iroh, Your Majesty. You instructed that any word from Ba Sing Se be brought to you directly.”

“So I did.” Zuko nodded, rising gracefully from the floor and retrieving a cloth to towel the sweat from his shoulders and torso. Taking the scroll, he dismissed the messenger and went to sit on a bench at the side of the courtyard. A surge of hope rose in his chest. He wasn’t sure if Uncle had understood that he was seeking advice. _“I am concerned about the marriage question”_ he had stated simply, but hopefully Iroh had read between the lines…Laying the scroll flat on his thigh, his eyebrow slowly rose with each word, then snapped down. Was his uncle serious? He read it again. Maybe he had missed something.

_My dearest Nephew,_

_Thank you for the letter; it is always good to hear from you and the marvellous work you are doing for our beloved country. Things are going quite well here, and I have had the honour of entertaining some of your comrades for the past two months. They expressed interest in visiting you at some point in the next few months, and it occurred to me that it is your birthday quite soon. I took the liberty of suggesting they visit for that most blessed occasion (I hope you do not mind). On that note, might I suggest that you also invite the families Ying and Chu? If I am not mistaken they both have children – daughters – around your age. I know it is difficult making time in your schedule for friends, but you may find such alliances beneficial in later years –_

“Hardly subtle, Uncle” Zuko muttered to himself. _Besides_ , he silently added _I’ve already started plans for the celebrations. Every eligible noblewoman in the Nation has been invited._

He sighed.

_\- Also consider that alliances with the other Nations may be a most excellent decision in the current climate. You may wish to spend some time with Fire Sage Shyu, to learn the history of pre-war alliances. (A worthy and important subject for any Fire Lord to know.) With any luck your grandfather did not destroy all records, and you can be guided with more knowledge than we currently possess._

_On that note, I most regrettably end. Take care, my nephew._  
  
_With highest regard_  
 _Iroh_

Swiping a shoulder-length lock of hair from his face, he leaned an elbow on one thigh, resting his chin in his hand. So those were the options his uncle could offer: Start making friends with ladies his age in the Fire Nation, or try and convince his council that a foreigner could be Fire Lady.  The first - other than being obvious - was tiresome. He wasn’t sure why the idea of rubbing shoulders with his peers should fill him with annoyance. Maybe his years outside his homeland had changed the way he saw the world? Maybe becoming friends with kids from all four nations made the closeted ladies of the Fire court seem insipid and narrow-minded?

But the other option… standing, he stalked over to where he’d dropped his loose tunic. Most of the time he was walking a knife edge with the council: Half would accept anything he said as ultimate truth. The other half had to be dragged to the truth of the Fire Nation’s transgressions, like undomesticated hippo-cows. Shrugging into the tunic, he folded the scroll carefully into his belt and headed to the door.

He paused halfway through. The last time his uncle had made him read an unknown history, he had been put on the path that had led here, where he was Fire Lord, the balance of the world was being righted, and he had become friends with the current Avatar. If he had learned nothing else, it was to take Uncle’s advice, no matter where he thought it led. He could at least speak to the Fire Sages and make a more informed decision, when the time came. Turning toward the royal wing, he straightened his spine, shoulders back, every inch the Fire Lord.

A little later he remembered Uncle’s other news and wondered who of his friends would be visiting. He would never admit it out loud, but the feeling of being alone in his own home was sometimes crushing. At least he could celebrate his birthday with friends. A small smile tugged at his lips, as he bent once again to consider the latest agricultural reports.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Sorry for the slow build. Half the time, I feel like a conduit for the words.  
> Be assured things are going to start moving very quickly, quite soon. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely, dear reader, we are getting there.

**Chapter 7**

Fire Capital 

“ _…need to store more grain against the coming drought. It is possible our humble town has not produced enough, and our elders are convinced that we will not have rain for the year to come. We beseech…”_

A knock interrupted him, and he breathed a long-winded sigh.

“Enter” He called, with just a hint of impatience, not bothering to look up from the report in front of him.

“My Lord, humblest apologies for the interruption, but this Earthbender is insisting - Gah!” Zuko’s head shot up at the strangled sound, his eyes widening. His personal guard was sliding backwards as though the floor had no friction, his eyes wide with terror. Zuko had half-risen from his chair, but a familiar sharp voice stayed the motion.

“Dunderhead! _I_ am the greatest Earthbender who ever lived, and _you_ will remember it!”

“Toph!” He shot back, slightly irate, as he came around his desk

“Hey, Sparky! Long time no see.” She was grinning as she rounded the shivering guard and came into sight. He gave a half-chuckle, crossing his study to stand before her and place a companionable hand on her shoulder, he shook his head.

“You never change, do you?” 

“I’ve changed plenty, Zuko. After all, I’m friends with the Fire Lord, now, aren’t I?”

“True.” He gave a genuine smile, “Would you like some refreshment?” He indicated the corridor away from his study and Toph nodded.

“Sure. I could eat.” They walked in silence, his guard falling into step a respectful distance behind them.

“It’s really good to see you. Uncle mentioned you would be coming. Well actually he said “former comrades” so I assumed there’d be more of you, but - ”

“Oh, I’m just early. We managed to convince Sokka and Suki to come help you celebrate, though.”

“’We’?” He turned to her “Someone else came with you?”

“Yes and no. Katara is on her way, but she needed to go see her dad as well, and I’m not setting foot on that snow-covered blind-spot if I can help it.” Toph shivered at the thought. “So she’s gone South for a week, and I decided to come ahead of her.”

“So I can expect Sokka, Suki, Aang and Katara as well? I’m glad – “

“Nuh-uh.” She interrupted. “I have no idea where Aang is right now, so your uncle couldn’t let him know in time. I mean, we left word at the Southern Air Temple, but I think they’ve all packed up camp and gone to one of the other temples. Nomads…” She shook her head in mock resignation. Zuko was confused.

“Wouldn’t Katara have gone with them?” In a typically dramatic gesture, Toph halted and gave a huge sigh

“Nope. I probably shouldn’t say anything, but I guess among friends it’s OK: They split up; went their separate ways. I found her staying at the Jasmine Dragon. Figured your uncle woulda said something to you by now.”

It took several seconds for him to comprehend what she was saying. Aang and Katara were…Aang and Katara; practically inseparable since the end of war, always showing their affection for one another in public, giving Sokka the ‘oogies’ with their romance. And now they…weren’t. His heart skipped a beat. Suddenly he wasn’t sure what to feel… Next to him, Toph had begun grinning, and he squelched whatever crazy path his mind was trying to explore.

“What?” He asked nervously, he had learned that _that_ look on Toph meant trouble

“Huh? Oh, I just remembered that I’ve won a huuuge bet.” She waved her hand nonchalantly, turning to face him fully. “By the way, _this_ is for not writing often enough!” He had scant warning as she punched him in the shoulder, _hard_. But he could barely voice a yelp, before she was spinning around, her hands meeting at the wrists, fingers locked into claws. Glancing up from her he met the alarmed eyes of his guard. The poor man raised a shaking, admonitory hand.

“We – we do not strike the Royal person…?” his voice quavered, tone rising at the end as though afraid to sound too challenging. Zuko dropped his face into his hand and massaged his temples

“Toph, is it too much to ask that you don’t accost my personal guard while you’re here? He’s just doing his job.”

“As long as he understands who and what I am.” She ground out through a manic grin

“Toph!”

“What?” She whined

“Put him down!”

“Fine…fine” she huffed, gently lowering and unclenching her hands. The guard slid down from his position halfway up the wall, until he was finally on his own feet again, his armour settling around him. He staggered slightly, before attempting to regain some modicum of decorum. For half a second, Toph considered him, head to one side, hand on her hip. “What’s your name, Personal Guard?”

“Ch-Chen.” He stuttered then raised his chin and stared straight ahead, trying not to look nervous

“You’re cute, Chen!” she grinned before whirling around and continuing down the passage. Staring at the back of her head, Zuko realised that his mouth was hanging partially open. He snapped it shut and took long strides to catch up, not bothering to see if Chen was following. He had been wrong: Toph _had_ changed. She’d grown up into a bold, independent woman, and he wasn’t sure how to reconcile that with the impish girl he had known.

“So…uh, your Metalbending is going well, huh?” He cleared his throat

“Oh yeah! I’m discovering that different metals have different personalities. Some of ‘em are a bit resistant, like the iron in Chen’s armour, there” she flicked her chin over her shoulder before continuing “Gold just looooves to be bent. It’s like a baby rabaroo…”

Their conversation continued over a late lunch in much the same veins, before petering out. Zuko fiddled with his goblet. In the silence his mind had gone in all directions again. _Not the time!_ He admonished. He  took a deep breath, before glancing up at Toph.

“Thanks. For – for coming to visit. I sometimes forget what having friends feels like.” He smiled a sad smile.

“No problem, Sparky.” She fixed him with her sightless eyes, and gave one of her rare soft smiles. The kind that said _It’ll all work out_. “Besides, you’ve been working far too hard. We need to remind you what Fun feels like!” She banged a fist lightly on the table for emphasis. He chuckled.

“Just do me one favour? Try not to damage my guards. They’re trained exactly how I want them, and it would take too long to replace them.”

“I promise if I run across Chen again, I won’t bite.” A wicked grin curled her lips “Much.” Zuko involuntarily spat his wine.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Note on time and travel: I've tried to give indicators of passing time, while still keeping the organic flow between chapters going. For those who are confused, we are now at about three months since Katara left the Southern Air Temple. By my calculations, the year-end solstice is any day now (The Longest Day, for Southern Water Tribe, and a mid-Winter holiday, for Fire Nation)  
> How they travelled across the Earth Kingdom so fast will be explained in a later chapter
> 
> 2\. Note on place names: For any names not originally mentioned in the actual source material, I have turned to this astonishing map by djinn327 of DeviantArt:  
> https://djinn327.deviantart.com/art/Avatar-Political-World-Map-267063656  
> (They very kindly supplied all Mandarin translations in the description)

**Chapter 8**

_Dadong_ Sea/Fire Capital

Sea-spray soaked into her clothes and hair, leaving them feeling slightly sticky. A biting cross-current of wind chafed her face, making her eyes tear slightly. The breakers around the islands rocked the ship roughly, causing her to brace her knees against the bulwark. She didn’t care. After weeks of feeling like a coward, feeling that she had somehow made a mistake, feeling _out of place_ , Katara was free. And out here, surrounded by her element, she felt the tug of something greater than herself. As though a giant rope was attached to her navel and drawing her to the place she was supposed to be.

She didn’t know why she had feared seeing her family, and the moment she had seen each of them – Sokka, her father, Gran-Gran – she had known that all would be well. More weight lifted from her shoulders with each word and gesture that had passed between them and she felt as light as an Airbender now, nearly floating above the deck of the Earth Kingdom trader she had hitched a ride on.

Gran-Gran, had understood immediately, wrapping her into a warm hug that smelled of her childhood. “ _The heart always knows_.” She’d murmured wisely. Then she’d cooked all of Katara’s favourite foods, and they had talked long into the night, of memories and news.

Sokka had been supportive in his own way: “ _Well now you can stop giving me the oogies with all that “sweetie” stuff, every time I see you!_ ” He’d chirped cheerfully. Suki was not amused, smacking him in the stomach “ _You do not get to talk,_ Sweetie.” Her voice dripped honey “ _This is still painful for your sister, and you will show some compassion!_ ” She’d given Katara a hug then “ _It’ll all work out.  You’ll see._ ”  Katara’s eyes had watered a little. Sokka had joined the hug then, offering silent support.

Hakoda had taken a little longer to understand. There was still a huge gap of time in her childhood, when he had lost touch with the person she was becoming. She wasn’t sure what he thought about her severing ties with the Avatar. But he’d accepted her decision nonetheless, and wished her well. Of course, inevitably, he’d asked her when she would be returning to the South Pole permanently. That had been difficult. Staring at the new buildings around her, everything new, unfamiliar, she couldn’t hide her feelings as she turned sad eyes to him. Without speaking he knew that she would not be making her home here. Not for a long time, if ever.

His disappointment had cut her to the bone, but in the end he had smiled “ _It is both the hardest and proudest moment for a parent, when they realise that their children are finally adults in their own right_.” And with that, the final weight had left her. She was her own person now, and she could choose what tides to follow.

After a few more days, catching up with old friends and packing the last of her childhood away, she had made her way to the newly raised and reinforced dock, seeking any ship that would take her to the Fire Capital. Bo Lee Feng, an Earth Kingdom merchant had been more than happy to take her in exchange for any bending help she could give.

Thankfully the voyage had been relatively uneventful, a few squalls blew in around the South Temple islands, but she handled them easily. This morning the cry of “Land!” had had her racing onto the deck, heart pounding. She knew that this was not their final port, that the crow’s nest was merely warning them of the two islands which they would have to pass between to enter the inner sea of the Fire Nation. But as the towering spires of volcanic rock came into view, she felt a surge of excitement. It had been a long time since she and the Gaang had traversed up and down these islands, preparing for the day of Black Sun, and later to help Zuko find his mother. She wondered how much had changed since they had last been there.

*

Toph stood impatiently on the pier, waiting for the Earth steamer to make her stately way into the harbour. According to a random dock-worker, it could just barely be seen between the Gates of Azulon. They’d received a hawk from Katara several days ago, telling them she’d be on an Earth Kingdom ship, and that between steam power and her bending, it would take little over a week for her to arrive.

So now Toph waited, fingers tapping on the belt at her hip. She knew her impatience stemmed mostly from the fact that she had been _right_ ; she had known it then, and she had had her suspicions confirmed time and again over the last ten days, and she wanted her plan to work _now_!

Stifling a smug grin, she remembered Sparky’s reaction when she’d dropped the splitsville bomb. Forget “weak knees”. Sifu Hotman had done a full body tremble from head to toe. It had taken all she had _not_ to crow her victory right then.

At some level, she knew it wasn’t just about being right. In her own way she had come to care for both the over-nurturing Waterbender and the taciturn, angsty Firebender. She knew they were perfect for each other. She had watched them dance around the obvious for _years._ And finally, true Earthbender style, she’d decided to make them face it head on.

The ship was close enough now that she could make out the voices of individual crew members on her broad deck. There, directly in the middle, calling to the helmsman as the prow shuttled unnaturally smoothly towards the pier, was Katara. Bracing her legs apart as the ship slowly berthed and threw out mooring lines, a small part of Toph worried that she might be manipulating her friends to a heart-breaking failure. She swiped it aside. If this didn’t work, then she would officially declare all Love to be a hoax.

*

Zuko squinted down at the bay, fingers absently tracing the intricate carvings in his study windowsill. He could make out the ship that had just docked, but not the people. For the first time in years, he felt unsure of himself. There were so many things he had not been able to resolve within himself. Even with his daily meditations, there were some memories he had shied away from, had never allowed himself to dissect or scrutinise too closely. He had known even then that they would only lead to pain, so he had boxed them and packed them into the darkest corner of his mind. And with a single sentence, Toph had dragged them back into the light, waiting to be opened, to be explored.

   
A breeze off the bay gambolled through the window, playing with the short locks of hair at his temples before darting elsewhere. And for the briefest moment he could smell the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the games begin....


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins.
> 
> I had absolutely no idea how this first meeting was going to go. None. So I was super nervous writing it. But, being the "story that should have been", I think it went quite well. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 9**

Fire Capital

“Thank you Captain Bo, for bringing me to my destination.”

“I should be thanking _you,_ little lady. You shaved two days off my normal run! If you ever feel like taking up trading, please do not hesitate to find me.” Katara and the merchant smiled and shared respectful bows. When she turned, the first thing she saw was Toph, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hi Toph!”

“Sweetness! You finally got here! You took forever!” They hugged and turned toward wide steps leading up to the city itself. Katara frowned.

“It was only a fortnight.”

“I know, but Lord Sparky is busy most of the time.” Toph pulled a face “We seriously need to help him relax!” Katara choked back a laugh

“Oh come on, he couldn’t have been _that_ bad.”

“Nah, I’m just kidding. But you know Sparky and me: I care for the guy, because he’s a friend, but I think I might be a bit much for him sometimes, y’know?”

“I can imagine.” Katara gave a wry shake of her head

“That’s why I’m so glad you’re here! You can balance us out, and then it’ll almost be like the old days.” Toph clenched her fists, an impish grin playing across her face. For a second she looked just like she had when they’d first met.

Any reply Katara had was cut off by the appearance off a stuffy-looking official at the top of the stairs. He bowed low, as they reached him.

“Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, welcome. You are expected. Please, follow me.” Straightening, he turned, indicating a large palanquin surrounded by eight burly men. She was a little taken aback, but figured that Zuko had decided to make an official gesture. All three of them embarked, and Toph turned her smile on the official.

“Hey, Pops, how’re you doing today?” His expression stiffened, but a half-smile tugged at his lips.

“I am quite well, Master Toph. I thank you for asking.”

“And Zi-la? Has she been practicing?”

“She says that she can now split rocks open with one hand.” Try as he might, the official couldn’t keep some pride out of his voice.

“Great! Tell her to keep at it, and I’ll be able to come by and show her some more moves when I’m done with official business this week.” She sat back, satisfied, arms crossed. He bowed.

“Our family will be honoured to host you once again.” Katara watched the exchange in confusion, but said nothing.

They passed the rest of the short journey in silence, and Katara turned to watch the buildings and people of the city pass by. Somehow it felt like she was seeing it for the first time now that she was here to visit, instead of being on one mission or the other. It seemed like she had spent most of her young life either fighting, or in danger of one sort or another. It was strange now, to have no driving objective. Strange, but good.

All too soon, they were deposited in the imposing front hall of the Palace, and saw yet another official approaching to greet them. More bowing and greeting followed, and then they were being led down a maze of corridors and through several open-air passageways through the gardens. She took the opportunity to ease her curiosity.

“So, a student? Here? In the Fire Nation?”

“Yup.”

“But, how? I mean – “

“Simple, really: I got bored, and discovered this kid kicking rocks outside the palace walls. Turns out her dad was from the colonies, and married an Earth nation woman. The kid was born over there, and ended up with Earthbending. Then they chose to move back here, when the whole Yu Dao thing exploded.” Toph shrugged. “She’s got some talent, so I decided to show her some moves.”

“That must be pretty lonely for her. How will she manage when you’re gone?” Katara wondered, remembering the feeling of being the only Waterbender in her village, with no-one to teach her.

“Dunno. Maybe they move back to Yu Dao? Maybe she goes on her own? Maybe I’ll stick around for a while?” Another shrug “We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

They arrived at a beautifully carved double door, which the guards on either side swung open. Without looking back, their guide stepped into the room beyond.

“Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe!” He announced, as though for a crowd, but when they followed him in, the room appeared to be empty. There was a low table and pillows arranged in the centre, with an assortment of food. At the far end of the room was a raised dais crowned by a carved canopy. Katara smiled then, as a familiar figure rose from the seat on the dais and came down the stairs toward them. Unnoticed, the guide bowed low and backed out of the room, the doors clicking shut behind him.

He had grown, she noticed in the seconds it took for him to reach them. He had reached his full height – several inches taller than when she’d last seen him. His shoulders were broader, and the formal robes he wore sat comfortably on a frame that had filled out nicely. Gone was the lanky teenager, replaced by a young man. He had grown his hair out too. No longer a hacked mess, it flowed smoothly to his shoulders, framing and flattering the strong planes of his face, the top-knot and gold fire-insignia somehow looking more regal than they had on his coronation day. More than that, confidence emanated from his every move, as he strode to them.

And then he was suddenly in front of her, and she raised her gaze to his, an open, warm smile spreading across her face. The warmth in his golden eyes matched her sentiment, though his face remained politely impassive.  With grace, he bowed to her, fist below open palm in a Fire Nation greeting of deepest respect.

“Master Katara, welcome back.” Her eyes widened slightly at the formality, her face falling. But as he rose, she saw the smallest smile tug his lips and crinkle the corner of his eye. Her spirits lifted, and she matched his bow, hands clasped in front of her.

“Fire Lord Zuko, I am honoured to be here.” She intoned solemnly. When she rose, however, the absurdity struck her, and she couldn’t keep her mirth from bubbling over. With a giggle, she reached a hand up to his shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you again, Zuko.”

The gesture surprised him, his hands coming up in reflex and hanging in the air at her sides. After a second he recovered and returned the hug, arms clasping loosely around her back, his eyes closing as he lowered his cheek to the top of her head. For the first time that morning he was at ease.  
  
For two straight hours before the ship docked, his mind had been at war, trying to force him to relive all of the memories he’d shoved to the back. With long-practiced resolve, he had finally managed to get his raging brain under control. _Now is not the time._ He kept telling himself. Seeing her standing in the doorway had nearly undone that control.

Dressed in a light tunic and leggings in the blues and whites of her nation, it had been easy to see that she was no longer a girl. She had undeniably feminine curves, though the half-sleeves of her tunic revealed the toned muscles befitting a bending master. Her face had lost its childish chubbiness, leaving the delicately-wrought features of a beautiful young woman. She wore her hair loose, but for a simple roll at the back into which she had clipped her customary looped and beaded braids. He liked it this way. It gave her a softer air than the tight plait she’d worn in younger years. Through sheer willpower, he had fought down the urge to blurt out every thought that came into his head, instead falling to rote greetings in desperation. But one look into her eyes – eyes the colour of tropical seas – and his mind had stilled.

Toph was practically vibrating with jubilation. Did they realise that they had been plastered to each other for half a minute already? She wanted to say something so bad! But she knew if she did, they’d immediately run in the opposite direction like scared gopher-hogs. But she needed to say something! It was all she could do not to fist-pump the air and cheer. This patience thing was going to kill her! Finally she cracked a little, catching herself just in time.

“Hey! Why didn’t I get any hugs or fancy welcomes when _I_ arrived?” She burst out plaintively. They broke apart immediately, and Zuko turned an arch look at her, eyebrow raised.

“Maybe because you barged into my personal suite, and accosted my guards, before any welcome could be prepared?” He countered

“Oh right. Hehe. You have a point there.” She laughed, and they joined in. Turning back to Katara, he offered her his arm, and they moved toward the table together. Toph heaved a sigh and joined them, silently pondering what to do next, as she grabbed food and idly joined their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering consolidating the chapters to make each one longer, but I'm conflicted. Let me know in the comments if you think the chapters should be longer, or are fine the way the are. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. This is a long one. 
> 
> And yes, Toph really, really did. (To every question that begins "Did Toph just - ?")
> 
> Also: More liberties. Because even smutty plots need a bad guy.
> 
> [Edited after posting: because apparently at 2am my brain can only come up with the word 'pleasing' to describe a perfect male specimen]

**Chapter 10**

Fire Capital/Ba Sing Se

_Dear Uncle,_

_I was right! I was right! I was right!!! -_

Iroh paused, and shook his head. He could just see Toph bullying a scribe into using three exclamation marks. As he read further, he smiled fondly. She had a devious mind indeed!

_\- Anyway, I’ve planted the seed, and given it water and dirt and all that other plant stuff. But you know me: I’m not gentle and I’m not patient. I really think I could use your help with this project. Are you coming for the party? We can talk then. In the meantime, I have to do some business out of the Capital. Maybe my little plant just needs some space to grow on its own?_

_Write soon!  
Toph_

Pouring a fresh cup of tea, Iroh re-rolled the scroll and glanced out the window to contemplate the sunset. If what Toph said was true, then a lot of groundwork would have to be laid for his nephew’s eventual happiness. If there was one thing he knew about Zuko, it was that he would put his own desires aside, if it meant keeping his country whole. Just look at the compromises he had made with his council! The erstwhile general stared balefully at the rooftops around him.  Half of the men he had chosen were from Ozai’s war council; kept as a sign of reconciliation and acknowledgement of experience.

In some ways it had been a wise move on Zuko’s part, stroking egos and courting favour. But as the Harmony Restoration Movement had taken effect, there had been greater and greater rumblings, especially from one particular stalwart: Zhao Min. He was some distant relative of the late Admiral Zhao, and hailed from a particularly powerful sect of the Zhao clan. His adverse reaction to the relinquishment of Yu Dao - after Zuko had mobilised the army in her defense - had been particularly telling, and Iroh knew that he would likely not have backed down since then. If there was going to be a problem from anyone, it would be him.

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Iroh considered moves and counter-moves. In a lot of ways the Fire Nation court was like a game of Pai-Sho: creating plans for every eventuality in order to achieve a Harmony. By now, Zuko would most likely have begun delving into the records, if only because it had been suggested.  He truly hoped, for Zuko’s sake, that there was useful information to be gained. Reaching for his writing set, Iroh penned a single line:

_Keep your plant sheltered, for now. I am on my way._

*

Toph blinked. “Is that it?” Her hapless companion turned the page over to check.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Hmm…” Leaning her chin on one arm, she chewed over Iroh’s words. Before she left the city, she might need to nudge her two love birds one last time. It had been ten days, and they were _still_ being too damned polite around one another! She nibbled her lip, considering what sort of push would be just enough to get the “plant” growing, but still keep it sheltered. A calloused fingertip drew slowly up the smooth skin of her back, making her shiver

“I didn’t know you were into botany.” A soft kiss landed on her shoulder, and she turned with an impish smile.

“There’s a _lot_ you don’t know about me, Chen.”

*

Zuko stood wearily, after the last supplicant had been shown out, and began making his way to the training courtyard. The last two weeks had been frustrating. If it wasn’t the constant line of farmers, healers, and landowners baying for his time, it was the endless choices he had to make for this cursed birthday ball. Who cared what colour the candles were? Seriously. He barely got to see Katara or Toph, usually meeting them for breakfast, and – if he was lucky – at dinner.

He wasn’t overly worried about Toph. She had mentioned taking on a student, and was looking into expanding her father’s industry in the Fire Nation. He did note that she was never around during either meal on the days that Chen was off-duty, though… He shook his head, scattering the half-formed images of Toph and Chen together. As long as Chen didn’t slack off, and Toph didn’t seriously wound him, then it wasn’t his business.

Katara, on the other hand…He couldn’t help feeling that he was neglecting her. Being a bad host. She was cheerful enough when they chatted, but – He sighed. Truth be told, the only time he felt truly calm, was in her presence these days. Never mind that he was curious about the last three years, and how they had changed her.  
And then there was that bundle of memories sitting at the forefront of his mind. He didn’t dare dwell on them. He simply could not afford it right now. But he still ought to make more time for his guests, he resolved, as he approached the training courtyard door.

Pushing it open, he barely had time to dive below a barrage of missiles. Instantly alert, he rolled into a low stance, hands already weaving and launching a wheel of fire in the direction of his attacker.

*

The sudden bloom of light over her left shoulder gave Katara meagre warning of the fireball shooting toward her. She spun out of its way with inches to spare, pulling a water whip from the barrel to her right, as she turned to face her opponent. Her eyes widened and she dropped the whip just as it was about to strike Zuko in the face.

“Oh Spirits! Are you OK?” She eased up, panting slightly. His face was paler than normal, his good eye round, as he realised what he had done.

“Katara! I- I wasn’t expecting anybody in here! I’m sorry! I would never – “

“Oh relax. I think I can handle myself against one Firebender.” She chuckled, one hand going to her hip. “I suppose I should have told you I’d be here.”

“I’m not your keeper. You are welcome to go anywhere in the Palace.” He swallowed, looking down sheepishly. Coming to stand in front of him, she raised an eyebrow.

“So what made you attack blind?” She tried to inject friendly humour into her voice. His mouth curled into a sardonic smile, and he turned to indicate the missiles embedded in the corridor wall, realising as he looked at them that they were ice. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes aghast.

“Oh my gosh! Then I should be the one apologising! I could have seriously injured you!”

“And then you would have healed me.” His eyes warmed as he turned back to regard her, and she returned the smile, memories of a time gone by floating to the surface. She shook herself again.

“I’d forgotten how quick your reflexes are.”

“I train every day.” He shrugged, turning to the bench nearest him, and starting to remove the heavy layers of formal regalia he had had to sit in all day. “Sometimes it’s the only time I have to myself.”

“Oh. Should I – Should I go? Give you a chance to relax?” He paused, then shook his head unclipping the final overcoat, leaving him in a sleeveless tunic and trousers.

“No, stay. We could maybe spar for a bit. Like in the old days?” She nearly didn’t hear him…the sight of the muscles on his unclad arms had become oddly fascinating. She mentally shook herself.

“That would be wonderful!” She gushed, just quick enough not to give herself away. It had been so long since she had had a training partner. So long since she had needed to truly fight. Most of the last three years had been spent honing her healing skill. Walking to the other side of the yard she turned to face him. He glanced at the barrels that had been placed on either side of the yard.

“When did those get here?”

“I requested them this morning. Honestly, half the time, I don’t know what to do with myself, now that I’m not running from one fight to another. “

“Sorry.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck, abashed. “I really should be spending more time with you, it’s just – “ She held up a hand to stop him.

“You don’t need to apologise for being the Fire Lord. Not anymore, anyway.” She shot him an arch grin. “Shall we?” They bowed to one another, and assumed their starting stances.

At first they moved slowly, sizing each other up, watching for the shift of a foot, the flick of a finger. Before long, though, the room was a spinning maelstrom of fire and water, each of them weaving and dodging, as though in a dance, neither one allowing the other an upper hand for more than a few seconds. Zuko dodged a scimitar of ice, sweeping his feet in a low kick which shot a sheet of fire along the floor, forcing Katara to leap high. She landed on a slide of ice, skating past him, and trying to pin his limbs to the floor with a barrage of ice manacles. He cartwheeled away, with split-seconds to spare and shot an arrow of flame at the slide beneath her feet. It melted instantly, causing her to falter, but she rolled fluidly and came up swinging, shooting all the water in the room at him in a single jet. He met it with a long column of fire. The water evaporated into a thick, warm fog, blinding them both. Intent on burning through the fog, he prepared the forms for another fire column, but the second the fire came into being Katara sent another jet at him, condensing the fog to add to her ammunition, and knocked Zuko flat on his back.

He lay there panting for a couple of seconds before raising himself up on his elbows, equal parts admiration and surprise tugging at his face.

“How did you know where I was?” He asked, as she came up to him and offered a hand to pull him up.

“Light is visible through fog.” She looked very pleased with herself. He screwed his eyes shut.

“I should have known that.” He shook his head in mild self-disgust, and then laughed. “We should do this more often, so I don’t get sloppy like that again!”

“Of course!” She agreed “You don’t know _how_ long it’s been since I’ve had a decent fight.”

“But, didn’t you and Aang – “

“It wasn’t the same.” She interrupted, looking away, brow furrowing. “He fought as though he was afraid to hurt me. I suppose he could have, but – “ Zuko understood immediately.

“But you felt like he thought you couldn’t handle yourself. That you weren’t strong enough.” He finished for her. She turned back to him, their eyes meeting in a moment of perfect clarity. The second he felt himself leaning toward her, Zuko spun around, clearing his throat. Suddenly the yard was too warm, the air still clammy from their recent battle. As calmly as he could, he walked to the bench where his clothes lay, dragging his tunic over his head and tossing it on the pile.

“So, do I get to reclaim my honour? Are you up for another round?” He teased, glancing at her over his shoulder. She was staring into the middle distance, focussed somewhere to the left of him. He cocked his head. “Katara?”

“Hmm? Oh! But of course, my Lord. Challenge me if you dare!” Her voice rang slightly false in her ears, but thankfully he hadn’t noticed. Nor did he seem to notice the blush marking her cheeks. In the seconds it took her to return to her starting position, she tried to figure out what had just happened. There had been that… _moment_ when it felt like they were sharing one mind, but she had pegged that down to them being very good friends who had shared some pretty difficult times. It couldn’t have been when he took off his tunic. She had seen Zuko shirtless before and had never quite felt like this. True, his body had grown and filled out magnificently, but – _Wait, what? “Magnificent”?_ She blinked. This was _Zuko_ she was thinking of! What on earth was wrong with her? She cut her thoughts short, decisively ignoring everything but her breathing and the water around her.

Furrowing her brow, she bowed to him, and assumed her stance. Completely oblivious to her inner turmoil, Zuko immediately flew into a barrage of weaving fireballs, and she gratefully let instinct take over, swiping her hands up, palms facing her. A wall of water swallowed the fire, and she flicked her wrists, her fingers stiffening, shooting ice darts from the wall in front of her in a ballistic spray. Zuko answered with a sphere of fire, melting the darts instantly, and slid beneath the remnants of the water wall, bringing him within feet of her. He knew it was a risk having the water at his back, but he suspected if he engaged her in close quarters, she’d be less likely to use large-scale moves. She smiled grimly, tugging her hands toward her chest, as she swung her leg forward, intent on wrapping him in an ice blanket. But instead of her foot landing on smooth earth, she hooked her toe mid-step on an outcropping of rock and went flying right into him.

They toppled to the ground, the wind knocked out of them. It took several seconds for Zuko to understand what was happening, as he gazed at the sky above him. The moment he did though…  
He had tried desperately to ignore the fact that she was wearing very little more than swimming clothes – a cropped halter-neck, thigh-length leggings and a sarong. Now, as he lay there, with her entire length pressed against his body, he was becoming uncomfortably aware of the fact. Aware of their legs tangled together, her hands pressed flat against his shoulders, the firm muscles of her abdomen clenching as she struggled to gain some purchase to rise, the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest... Better that he keep staring at the sky, he decided, as he tried to breathe.

Katara blinked several times, as she realised that she was lying fully on top of him. She must have knocked her own wind out, because she felt like a fish out of water, wriggling and struggling to draw air. She glanced down at him and decided that he had been stunned by the fall. She was _not_  going to dwell on the feeling of his bare chest under hands! Gingerly, she placed her hands on either side of his ribs, and levered herself up and to the side of him, finally rising unsteadily to her knees. Glancing at him again her eyes were inexorably drawn to the starburst scar that marred his sternum. Unbidden, guilt washed over her when she saw it, and she firmly forced her gaze away, noticing that his eyes were closed. Concern spiked through her.

“Zuko? Are you OK? Can you hear me?” He swallowed, and nodded, his eyes cracking open to glance at her. Seeing the hand she offered, he gripped it and drew himself up

“What happened?” He rasped, voice barely audible.

“I don’t know.” She frowned and glanced behind her “I must have caught my foot on a rock or some-“ She stopped mid-sentence. There was no rock. The floor was perfectly smooth. Carefully, she rose to her feet to get a closer look. It had been right there! Letting out an exasperated breath, as she realised what had happened, she raised her face to the rafters

“Toph!” A raucous giggle answered her, and the culprit stepped into the yard

“I am not Toph! I am Melon-Lord! Muhahahaha!” She called. Even Zuko couldn’t help laughing at the memory, and soon the training yard was flooded with fire, water, and rocks.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the story wants longer chapters.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 11**

Fire Capital

Toph left the Capital the next morning. She had expressed interest in forming partnerships with Fire Nation metalworkers, and Zuko had shown the location of several factories around the islands. He’d also offered the use of a ship, but she’d pointed out that her air-ship was far faster – after all, it had brought her and Katara across the Earth Kingdom in less than two weeks.

The morning of her departure dawned with clear skies and a warm sun that threatened to be unbearably hot by mid-day. They had made their way by palanquin to the small docking area, where Toph had moored the air-ship - an open area in the middle level of the city, which Zuko had commissioned for this express purpose. Zuko glanced up at the contraption, studying it. It was larger than a war balloon, but not as large as the ships his father had used all those years ago during the failed Comet Attack. The Beifong flying boar was emblazoned on the side, sharing space with the insignia of the Earthen Fire Refinery. He considered that one of the only good things to come out of the war was the leap in technology that resulted.

Turning to his companions he saw that Toph and Katara were embracing. Before she released the older girl, Toph leaned up and whispered something in her ear. Katara’s face went still, her gaze slightly stunned as she stared off into the distance. What had Toph said? He wondered, but then he was being grabbed by the Earthbender, and he graciously leaned down to give her hug.

“Ah!” She mock-sighed “There’s the sugar I’ve been looking for.” He blanched, and she laughed at him. Glancing back at Katara, he realised she hadn’t moved. He nearly went to her, but a strong hand tugged at his arm, and he returned his attention to Toph. She was craning her neck to look at him, which was odd, since she clearly couldn’t want to look him in the eye. He bent toward her slightly. She took a breath and in a low voice continued “I’m going to say this once, Sparky, so listen up. Sometimes the path you need to follow isn’t all hidden passages and under-ground tunnels. Sometimes the path is right in front of you.” She released his arm, and gave that rare soft smile again. The one she had used the first day of her arrival.

And then she was turning and yelling imprecations at her crew, as though that moment hadn’t existed, leaving him feeling much the same as Katara looked. After that it took very little time for Toph to load up, give a half-wave and start climbing the ladder into the air-ship. At the top she blew a kiss that seemed to be aimed over his shoulder. Turning slightly, he realised that Chen was on duty today. He raised an eyebrow at the impassive expression on his guard’s face and turned back to see Toph disappear into the ship. A short time later the ship was a distant dot in the sky, and Zuko finally went to Katara.

She seemed to have recovered from her fugue, but a small crease marred her brow. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, she glanced up at him and attempted a half-smile.

“I’m fine.” The turmoil in her eyes belied her, but he chose not to mention it, instead offering his arm.

“Shall we have some breakfast?”

“Yes, thank you!” She sounded relieved, and they headed back to the palanquin.

*

The day passed in a strange whirl of colour for Katara. It was at once grey and bright. Like the shadows of clouds passing over a painted landscape. She had tried valiantly to keep engaging in conversation at breakfast, but somehow Zuko had sensed that she wasn’t completely present, and had finished eating in silence. She knew he was concerned, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to share the turmoil roiling inside her, and he had thankfully left it alone. After all that he had done for her - for all of them - he didn’t deserve to be burdened with… _whatever_ this was.  
She’d avoided training entirely, and had opted to take her evening meal in her room, leaving word that she wasn’t feeling well. And all of this because Toph had knowingly whispered two words to her: _Weak knees_.

It hadn’t taken long to figure out what Toph was telling her. Mentally she’d scoffed, pushing away the voice that whispered that Toph was right. It didn’t matter, anyway. She had just come out of a long-term relationship, and Zuko…she couldn’t begin to guess what he felt. But he certainly hadn’t shown interest. And this wasn’t even the problem. She had swept all of these thoughts away dismissively, and they had been replaced with… _everything else_.

Like a battlefield dressing being torn from an ugly wound. The memories she had buried were suddenly laid bare.

She gripped her knees, as she sat up on her bed, staring out the window at the newly-risen moon.  When he had joined the Gaang and almost immediately saved her life, and she’d bitten out angry words at him. _Guilt_. When he’d seen her Bloodbending for the first time, and not said a word. _Shame_. When he’d taken a bolt of lightning intended for her. _Terror_.

How did one even reconcile everything that they’d been through together? She pressed her face into her knees.

*

Silently padding down a darkened corridor, Zuko breathed the cool air of the sleeping palace. He wasn’t headed anywhere specific, just needed to walk. Walk until exhaustion could claim his mind. It was rare these days, that he needed to do this; normally the responsibilities of being a ruler had him working, until the mere touch of his head to a pillow had him sinking into a dark, dreamless sleep. He preferred it that way. The nightmares he’d had when he started losing his mind, thinking that he was becoming like his father…better to succumb to exhaustion than relive those.

He liked the solitude, too. All of his servants and lackeys locked away in their rooms, oblivious to their Lord’s footsteps. His personal guard had been a nuisance at first, until they finally accepted that when their charge slipped out of his room, they would inevitably lose him in the maze of corridors and hidden passageways. He knew he took a risk. But he also needed that peace. That loneliness.

A muffled cry shattered the quiet, and he plastered himself against a wall, using the hall decorations to orient himself. _The guest wing._ His eyes narrowed as he scanned the hallway. The cry came again, and he could hear latent terror in it, could hear sobbing. _Katara’s voice_ , he registered, and fear lanced through him, cold and searing. Had someone made an attempt on her life, to get to him?

Adrenalin coursed through him. He swung her door open fast, flame at the ready. But there was no movement. No assassin. A sudden thrashing drew his eyes to the bed. He dropped his hand, extinguishing the flame, as he approached. Another strangled cry gave him pause. She was in a nightmare, he realised, taking in the anguish contorting her face, made starker by the weak moonlight. He let a breath out that he didn’t know he was holding. Without further thought he reached a hand to her shoulder, lightly shaking her.

“Katara.” The rasp of his voice was made rougher with concern. Her eyes half-opened but rolled closed again, her brows furrowing. A half-sob half-gasp ripped from her throat. He sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, and tried again “Katara!” He called sharply, shaking her shoulder more firmly. Without warning she sat up, eyes wide and unfocussed. They lit on his face, and a jumble of disconnected syllables burst from her. But she wasn’t awake, he realised, startled as her hands franticly tangled with the front of his sleeping shirt. The syllables she had been mouthing resolved into a single word, repeated over and over.

“Zuko! Zuko!” the terror in her voice mirrored the frenzy of her movements, the horror in her eyes. Before he knew what was happening, she was bending the water from a vase next to the bed. Her frantic movements had pulled the panels of his shirt askew, and he sucked in a sharp breath as her hands, now glowing with bent water, made urgent contact with his chest directly on the scar. With crystal clarity, he knew exactly where her mind was.

The first prickles of the healing water pulling at his skin spurred him to action. Gripping her face with both hands firmly but gently, he forced her dream-crazed gaze to his, willing her to see him. His face bent until his nose brushed hers

“Katara, I’m here. It’s a dream. I’m alive.” He spoke gently, voice calm. For the longest second, she trembled, hands raised, then she blinked, eyes focussing. He released her face.

“Z-zuko?” Her voice was small, weak, cracked. For the longest second all she could see were his eyes. Liquid gold - made mercury by the moonlight - calming her, chasing the phantoms from her mind. Still barely half-awake, his words echoed in the sudden silence. _I’m alive._ The force of the terror drained from her and she collapsed against him, tears running freely. Her arms wrapped around his ribs, her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, her relief dragging heaving sobs from her lungs. Without hesitation he folded his arms around her, a hand soothing the trembling muscles of her back, stroking her hair, smoothing the tension from her shoulders. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, rocking slightly. His thoughts were in chaos so he ignored them, focussing only on this moment, focussing on the woman in his arms, focussing on banishing her fear.

A moment – an hour, a lifetime – passed, and her sobs subsided, her trembling stilled. She released her grip on his shirt, and he made as if to rise. Her fingers tensed.

“Please” she whispered, forehead pressed against his collarbone “please stay?” He took a breath, released it. Finally he nodded, and she relaxed again. Scooting over to give him some room, she lay down. Ignoring the warning bells in his mind, he lay down next to her. She turned toward him, and he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around her midriff. She closed her eyes. He couldn’t.

Avidly, he studied her face; the soft curve of her cheeks, the strong line of her eyebrows, the fans of her lashes, the bow of her lips. The face of an enemy, a nuisance, a tool, an opponent – and then against all odds, the face of mercy, the face of a friend, the face of forgiveness. He had betrayed her once, he remembered. A bitter taste surged up his throat. She had shown him mercy and he had betrayed her.

His eyes slid closed. Every memory he had carefully boxed away was blaring for attention now, and he knew he would not be able to banish them again. They flitted in his mind’s eye, taunting him, whirling in a disjointed series of images. _Knocking her away from a falling rock. The feel of her cool fingers on his scar. The look of hate as she struck him down in a blizzard. The strength of her hand as she plucked him from the air. The synchronicity of their movements as they faced off in training. The panic as he watched a bolt of lightning shoot at her. The dread as he realised that he couldn’t save her from his sister._

They circled and swirled, and at their centre, stood a truth which he had painstakingly ignored. It hadn’t always been there, but once it had taken root, it had grown and flourished. And now, when he could no longer shove any of it away, it made itself known. His eyes shot open. His heartbeat was erratic. He could hear his own blood ringing in his ears. And at the same time, his mind was crystal clear. He swallowed hard.

Her sleepy voice dragged him to the present.

“Zuko?” He glanced down at her, and met her half-lidded gaze

“I’m here.” he whispered

“Why did you do it?” He didn’t need to ask what she meant. His lips parted, and he drew a breath to answer – and paused. His eyes slid from hers staring into the darkness above her head. He had asked himself the same once, before he had put the memories aside. He had even reasoned out a plausible answer: “ _I can redirect lightning. You can heal._ ” It was a reasonable answer. It made sense. And it was a lie. He had never lied to her. And he knew he couldn’t start now.

“I – “ the word stuck in his throat. The truth was too freshly realised. His lips pressed together and he shot her a pleading look, but her eyes had slid closed again and he realised her breath had slowed with sleep.

Knowing that he could not be found in her room come morning, he sighed. With the softest brush of his lips against her temple, he rose and left her room. A spirit in his own castle.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's some angst. Because.
> 
> (Also, I'm not adding place names for now, until they're necessary again)

**Chapter 12**

The insistent warmth of late morning sun woke her. Groaning, she sat up, clutching her head. She felt groggy and a little disoriented. Since she’d arrived here, her sleep had been blessedly untouched by the darkness, but on some level she’d known that the nightmare would come again. Her mind had been split wide open by the excavated memories.

It had started as it always did, with her floating above the Agni Kai. Brilliant waves of blue and yellow fire blinded her.  They didn’t speak in her dreams. The only voice she heard was a soft keening – hers, she thought - and then the demented laughter and enraged screams of _Her_. Always, the moment she saw the lightning forming, she would drop to the ground behind him. She would see the crackling line of energy filling her entire world, and then a shadow that leaped in front of her to intercept it. The details of her fight with Azula were jumbled, never following a set sequence. Inconsequential. Always drowned by the dread as she finally ran to his lifeless body, knowing that she had been too late. That hollowness of loss always woke her, as she screamed her pain to the sky.

She cracked her eyes open. This time was different, she realised. She hadn’t woken screaming this morning. Frowning, she tried to piece her erratic memories together. She had run to him, had tried to heal him, heart racing as her bending failed to find life. But then – but then she was looking into his eyes – those eyes that could melt and singe and warm. And then his voice… _I’m alive_. And he’d held her, and for the first time the sound of Azula’s voice had been muted. Carefully, gritting her teeth against the throbbing at her temple, she turned her head. There was a second indent on her pillow.

Her mind pulled together like a bow string. He had been here. She blinked. A strange calm settled over her, as she studied the place where his head had been.  As though from a distance, she observed mortification blooming in one corner of her mind, relief in another, and in a third corner lurked a trembling _something_ that she couldn’t - wouldn’t - identify.

With another groan she left the bed, stumbling over to the pitcher of water on the vanity table. She carefully bent water to her neck, untangling the chi that was causing her head to throb. Then she went to the wardrobe and picked out her clothes:  light cotton dress with high collar and capped sleeves. Tying the sash, she reached for a pair of soft-soled  pumps, turned to run a comb through her hair, and washed her face with the remainder of the water. She didn’t spare a glance at herself, didn’t think about what she was doing, simply opened her door and turned in the direction of Zuko’s private suite. She wasn’t sure that he would be there, wasn’t sure what she was going to say if he was, but something was driving her to go anyway.

She was partially relieved, partially alarmed to see his guards standing outside his study door. He was here. She raised her hand to knock and hesitated. But the driving force wouldn’t release her, and her knuckles rapped softly on the wood.

“Enter” His voice was muted and rough. She swallowed and timidly opened the door. He was at his desk, head bent over a parchment, brows furrowed. He looked haggard, she realised, guilt welling up. A dark circle marked the top of his unscarred cheekbone, the scar itself appearing livid against the paleness of his skin. His hair was unbound today – no top knot or pin – and the shorter strands had fallen forward to curtain his eyes. One pale hand came up to brush them aside, long fingers tangling with the strands, massaging his temple slowly. Suddenly, she didn’t want to break the silence, regretted coming here, needed to be somewhere else.

He glanced up, and his eyes widened slightly before his features settled into calm impassivity, a light smile curling the corners of his mouth.

“Katara, good morning. I hope you’re feeling better.” She met his eyes, and saw nothing but polite kindness there. A little unnerved, she nodded.

“Yes. Much better.” Spying a couch to one side of the desk, she went to sit. It was a testament to the depth of their understanding that she didn’t need to ask first. He didn’t follow her movement, instead busying himself writing a hasty note at the bottom of the parchment, sanding it, and placing it on a pile to his left. A little shy, she studied her hands clasped in her lap. Words bubbled up in her throat, coming out barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you.”

His hands stilled, his face immobile for the briefest moment before he turned to her. He bowed his head slightly, not meeting her eyes. “Any time” He responded softly, a wealth of emotion held in those words. Understanding, acceptance, caring. And with that, the awkwardness disappeared. They would be alright.

She took a breath and glanced around his study. It was neat and uncluttered, a sanctuary of quiet. It suited him, she decided. This new version of him, who had grown up and learned to be a great man. A bookshelf bearing a number of scrolls and books stood behind him, and she rose to study the titles. His head turned slightly as she approached, but realising her destination, he reached for the next missive, and began reading.

Finding a collection of poetry, she went back to the couch and settled in, curling her feet under her. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. He needed to work, and she needed company, even if it was silent. They understood with one mind. A guard discreetly closed the door.

*

He had read the same sentence three times, he realised. He rubbed his eyes wearily. He had tried to sleep when he returned to his room, but the maelstrom of his mind wouldn’t let him. He’d tried meditating to calm his mind, but the thoughts he had suppressed for so long would not be tamed. He had spent the rest of the night dissecting each memory, skirting around the monolith of truth at their centre. Every look, every emotion, every action and reaction was analysed. _Guilt, Shame, Fear, Regret, Respect, Friendship._

He’d curled in on himself, remembering the vicious way he had treated her in the beginning. _Peasant_ he’d called her. She had roundly proved him wrong at the North Pole, knocking him on his backside. He had hated her for standing in his way, blocking his path to Honour. He had used her necklace against her, had tied her to a pole as bait, had hounded her and her brother and the Avatar from one end of the earth to the other.

And then something had changed, shifted. He had chosen the correct path in Ba Sing Se, for the first time. And she had turned around and…offered healing. Trust. Mercy. The bitter taste returned to his mouth, remembering the look on her face when he had joined his sister. It had been fleeting, a shadow of hurt, banished by rage as she fought him again. His mind hovered for a long while on that moment in that cavern. Her cool hand on his face, a ray of hope reflected in her eyes.

The rest of his memories flowed faster from that point: joining the Gaang, bowing before her in abject humility, hoping for forgiveness. Helping her gain closure from her mother’s killer, marvelling at the trust she gave him on their mission, even before she had forgiven him. Her arms around him when they returned, a weight slipping from his shoulders as she spoke words of forgiveness. Their time on Ember Island, the shock of seeing himself portrayed with her in the cavern, being forced to see her as more than a friend. And the Agni Kai, the moment when Azula’s eyes shifted to the side, the feeling of his stomach dropping through his feet as he realised her target, the devastation at the thought of losing her. He’d been acting on instinct when he’d jumped; hadn’t been prepared for the lightning to hit, his fear overriding any ability to cycle all of that energy out. As his vision blurred and darkened, he had seen his sister pursue her, and for a while he had thought she would die. He should have known better.

Finally, as he watched the sun rise, he turned his attention to _It_. Looming behind the last memory, a monolith of gold: The truth that he had shoved away time and again after the war. Every time he had seen her with Aang, every time Mai had kissed him, he had shoved harder, until it was buried so far in his mind that he felt little more than a nip at the back of his eyes. But Aang and Mai were memories now, and there was nothing he could do to stop this feeling surging through him, rising through his body with the sun.

_He loved her._

Acknowledging it, even silently, caused that feeling to explode, an incandescent firework that rocked his entire being to the core.

And in its wake came the doubt, the return of fear. She had never shown him more affection than she did her own brother. Despite their uncanny bond of understanding, she hadn’t indicated interest. _She cried for you. She feared for your life._ A treacherous voice whispered to him. _She would have done the same for any of us._ He answered himself, even as he paused to admire her unending compassion.

He shook his head. Even if she had returned his feelings, he couldn’t expect her to become his Lady, to face the backbiting and venom of his court, especially as an outsider. _You don’t give her enough credit. You know she is stronger than that. She made you love her without trying, imagine what she could do if she did._ That voice again, needling at him, chipping at his self-control.

_Yes. She is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met._

_She is perfect._

_I don’t deserve her._

The voice fell silent.

The sun had crested the horizon. He breathed the new day in. Bracing himself for the pain, he resolutely pushed the golden orb of emotion away. He couldn’t risk their friendship. Couldn’t risk her safety. Rising from the floor of his study, he had gone to change his clothes, and begun the work of the day.

 

And now…now, he cast a sidelong glance at her. She was an oasis.

Putting his pen down, he turned to her.

“What are you reading?” She was startled by the sound of his voice but recovered quickly.

“Just some poetry.” She replied companionably, she frowned slightly “You look terrible, Zuko. You need a break.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep.” He swiped a hand over his face, missing the abashed expression on her face.

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault” He shook his head. Leaning back in his chair, he indicated the book with one hand. “Want to read some to me?”

They settled into a comfortable routine. She would meet him for breakfast, sit quietly in his study, sometimes reading to him. He would go to the audience chamber, and she would visit the city. They would meet sometimes for training, sometimes for supper.

It was a perfect bubble of polite companionship, waiting to burst.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what is going on with the chapter lengths anymore. When this is finally done, I'll probably have to come back and shift everything.
> 
> Anyway: here's some awkwardness, more angst, and maybe just a HINT of Zutara. (Because apparently I'm a tease, as well.)

**Chapter 13**

_“We have been searching through our oldest archives, but have found little more than hints at the information you seek. I fear that all direct records may indeed have been destroyed. The attached box contains the only solid hints I have found so far._

_I regret that I could not give happier news  
Shyu, Sage in the light of the Fire”_

Zuko lowered the parchment and turned his gaze to the small chest in front of him. It wasn’t much bigger than a jewellery box. He opened it gingerly, and glanced inside, heaving an exasperated sigh as he studied the contents: two scrolls, a small wooden frame, and what looked like a hair comb.

“Gifts from a secret admirer?” He glanced at Katara, she had risen from the couch, her teasing eyes matching her tone. One side of his mouth quirked up, and he shook his head, slightly abashed.

“No, I’ve tasked the Fire Sages with looking into Fire Ladies of the past. Uncle Iroh thought it would be a good idea for me to look into my lineage. I think he thinks it will help me make a more informed decision when the time comes to – to –“

“To pick a wife.” She finished for him, her eyes sympathetic. She came to stand a little behind him, one hand on his shoulder as she peered at the contents in the box. He resisted the urge to sink back against her. He’d been getting good at that. Every one of her touches - on his hand, his arm, his shoulder - were offered in friendship, and he’d do well to remember it.

Sensing some form of distress in him, Katara moved forward to stand closer to his desk. “Shall we look at them?” She shot a reassuring smile his way. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the first scroll. It was very thin and fragile with age. Unrolling it he scanned the contents and let his breath out. Fire Sage Shyu had been right, this was supremely obscure.

“It’s just a birth announcement.” Katara bent to read it out aloud

“ _Let it be known on this day that –_ I’m guessing this is ‘Fire Lord’. Wow, this is archaic script!” she interrupted herself “ _\- that Fire Lord Mazin welcomes a son as his first heir. Born under this auspicious moon to Fire Lord Mazin and Fire Lady Aala. Long may they prosper.”_ She finished, frowning.

“See? Just a birth announcement.” He was about to drop the scroll back in the box, but Katara stopped him, one hand lightly gripping his arm.

“Wait, the clue is there!”

“I don’t see it.” He grumbled. Unperturbed she turned to him raising an eyebrow, clearly holding back a laugh

“The Fire Lady’s _name_ , Zuko!” He frowned again, and glanced back at the scroll

“It’s – It’s not a Fire Nation name.” He said slowly, thoughtful.

“Aala….Aa- _la_ …” She tried it out, testing the syllables. “It almost sounds – “ Her eyes widened “It sounds like an Air Nomad name.” They shared a wide-eyed look, and he reached for the next scroll. It seemed a little newer, the parchment less translucent.

_“My Love, My Lord.”_ it began _“I long for the day when we can be together again, when I can once again feel the touch of your lips to mine, your hands on my – “_ Zuko abruptly stopped reading, clearing his throat, as he felt the blood rising in his face. Peeking at Katara, he met her equally bemused look. Katara broke the look first, her face suddenly business-like.

“So, a love letter.” She bent down to continue reading

“More than a love letter” He muttered, suddenly finding the painting on the opposite wall infinitely more interesting. This time she did laugh at him, turning fully to look at him, hand on her hip. He met her eyes.

“Who knew you were such a prude!” Mirth bubbled in her voice “You can’t tell me you’ve never written a naughty letter before?” He blinked at her slowly. Her face fell slightly, contrition tightening her lips. “Oh. Sorry.” A slight tinge of pink marked her cheeks as she turned back to the letter and continued reading. He turned back to the painting. The last thing he needed right now, with Katara standing so close, was to be reading passionate words about acts of love, in graphic detail. He swallowed and gritted his teeth.

She was silent for several minutes as she read. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise a hand to her lips. Was she trembling? _Focus!_ He mentally shouted at himself, and snapped his eyes forward again. A light sigh escaped her, drawing his gaze as she straightened up. She was chewing her lip on one side, her hand now hovering over the pendant of her mother’s necklace. It didn’t help his composure much that she also appeared to be a little flushed. Suddenly he _really_ wanted to read the letter. By the strength of sheer willpower, he put the scroll down on his desk.

“So – uh – what do you think the clue is?” He asked quietly

“Hmm?” Her eyes were slightly unfocussed when she turned to him. Katara shook her head to clear it. For all that she had teased Zuko about prudishness, she had to admit she had never read something quite so…so… _visual_ before. Clearing her throat, she turned to the letter, valiantly attempting to ignore the heated prose. There had to be something here… her eyes lit on the word ‘sword’. “Here!” She cried triumphantly, pointing to the character. Before he could stop himself he was leaning forward to look. Hours of scanning official documents meant that he read the entire sentence in one go, and he felt his blush grow worse. He had never thought to refer to that…part…of himself as a ‘sword’.

Ripping his eyes from the page. He took a moment to blank his mind, chasing the heated image into the void. It took a moment, but finally he managed to narrow his attention to the single character. It was shaped strangely. The head radical had been changed, he realised. “It’s not – “ He stopped.

“It’s Earth Kingdom script” She stated knowingly. “I saw it written like that in Omashu, once”

“But how is this connected? It's just a....love letter”

“Well, the writer refers to ‘My Love, My Lord’ “ she quoted. A shiver ran down his spine at her words. _This is getting ridiculous!_ He berated himself. Oblivious to his internal rant, she continued. “Among other things, she spoke about making her home by his side. I think she was his intended. And better yet: they were a love-match.” She ended on a happy sigh. Romance always warmed her heart.

“So…so far an Air Nomad, an Earth Kingdom girl…”

“And a love-match!” She pointed out helpfully. He nodded agreement, but didn’t say anything. As one, they turned to the box again, he reached for the frame, and she immediately removed the comb. Turning the frame over in his hands, he realised that there was a miniature portrait there. Blue eyes stared up at him. _Katara?_ He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the notion, studying the painted face. _No, not Katara, but definitely Water Tribe_ he decided, rubbing a thumb gently over the cracked varnish. Her face was longer than Katara’s, her eyes paler. But, even dressed in red, and crowned with gold, her features bore a strong resemblance to Katara.

He turned to look at her. She hadn’t said a word since taking the comb. Her face was still, her hands running gently along the tines and tracing the carving in the handle. An indent showed where a gem had once been seated, and she thought the carvings may once have been painted. All faded now, though, the comb was a stark off-white.

“This is whale-bone, the carvings are a little strange, but it’s definitely scrimshaw…” she murmured, as though speaking to herself. Wordlessly, he rose from his seat, and brought his hand next to hers, the portrait lying next to the comb. She glanced at it, her eyebrows rising. “Water Tribe” she breathed. They stood still in that moment, side by side.

A knock at the door had them jumping. Katara dropped the comb, cursing as she knelt to retrieve it. When she stood again Zuko was already seated, quickly repacking the box. She replaced the comb carefully and immediately turned to the bookshelf behind him. Whatever that moment had been, she decided, it was gone now.

*

The last week before the planned celebrations was taking its toll on Zuko. Katara could see the tension building in his shoulders as she sat there reading. She tried to help where she could, reading to him, to give him a break from work. Sometimes he would ask her advice about a particular matter, and they would end up in long discussions. He never mentioned day the box had arrived from the Fire Sages, and she decided that the whole marriage question was bothering him. A tiny voice pointed out that it bothered her too, but she flatly ignored it. They were friends, and she would be _friendly,_ she emphasised in her mind.

_Not that that love letter helped_ the voice teased.

_Stop it!_ She glared at the book in front of her. She had been having strangely unsettling dreams, since she’d read it. Dreams which she swiftly ignored and buried when she woke. Stealing a glance, she realised that he had both his hands tangled in the hair at his temples. Not a good sign, she decided. He needed a break. After all, tomorrow was the celebration, and he’d have to be at his best, to deal with all those dignitaries and nobles.

“You need a break.” She pointed out, echoing her thoughts, and closed the book she had been reading.

“I can’t right now” He nearly growled, frustration heavy in his tone. She was slightly taken aback, he rarely if ever sounded like that around her. Rising she went to stand at his shoulder, glancing to the paper. It was a flat refusal to give excess grain to the Capital, the writer sounding somewhat affronted that the Capital would be asking _again_. A second page lay under it, and she saw, in a rougher hand, the word ‘drought’.

“No matter how hard I try, I can’t make everyone happy” His tone was forlorn, his shoulders hunched. Sympathy rose in her, and she placed both hands on his shoulders, squeezing slightly.

“Zuko, it’s almost impossible that everyone will always be happy at the same time. And it’s not your job to keep them perpetually happy. It’s your job to make sure that they are safe, that they can continue living their lives.” Her tone was soft, coaxing. She gently squeezed the muscles of his shoulders. For long seconds he remained hunched. Letting a breath out, he slumped back, nearly leaning against her, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

Thinking for a second, her face suddenly lit up. She came to his side and grabbed his hand in both of hers. He blinked up at her in silent confusion. Tugging at his hand she took a step back “Come on, I want to show you something!”

Her excitement was infectious, and he found himself being dragged through his palace, past wide-eyed guards, barely having a second to indicate that everything was fine, before he was being whisked around another corner. Several more corners, and a couple of flights of stairs later, they were standing in the main gallery, in front of a heavy curtain. He knew this curtain. He had stepped through it to stand before his people and the combined armies of the other three nations, to be crowned. He hesitated, but Katara was having none of that, dragging him through the curtain.

There was nothing here, the courtyard stood empty, silent. About to ask, he was startled when Katara took his chin in a firm hand and directed his gaze up slightly, pointing with the other hand. There, past the courtyard, just visible beyond the palace wall, was a small traders’ market. Her hand on his chin urged him to keep looking, so he studied the market. There was a fire flake merchant, a tea shop, a man selling something small and shiny – probably cheap hair ornaments and the like. He noticed a small family settling at the tea shop. The parents carefully putting down baskets of produce they’d been carrying. Their child – a daughter, he thought – pointed at the sparkling stall, and the father got up to take her to look. Returning to sit with his wife, he handed her something, and she kissed him. On the other side of the market, he could see school children ambling out of the local academy, some were tossing a ball of fire between them – a game that he did not recognise. Further to the left his eyes stopped at the sight of an elderly man rocking in a chair on the veranda of a house, fanning himself and watching the antics of the school children. A carriage drew up at the house next door, and someone wearing the hat of a scribe stepped down, a bundle of scrolls in his arms. He bowed toward the man next door, and hurried inside what looked like a clerk’s office.

“Do you see it?” Katara whispered, turning wide eyes up to him.

“I – I see people and a market and a scribe and a school. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Exactly! No fighting, no pain. This is your kingdom, Zuko. These are your people. This is why you work. All of them going about their lives in peace. It’s not all just words and numbers on a page. _This – “_ she waved her hand to indicate the entire tableau “ – this Peace is _your_ doing. This is what the papers on your desk all mean.”

For long seconds, he let his eyes rove over the city, as he contemplated her words. Suddenly he felt like he knew how to breathe again. His spine straightened with renewed strength. He turned to her, gratitude and awe written across his features.

“How do you always know how to say exactly the right thing?” She ducked her head, turning to descend the ridiculously steep stairs at the side of the platform. He followed and they found a bench under one of the decorative gazebos.

“Many hours of guilt and shame and contemplation.” She finally answered glibly.

“Shame? What could you possibly be ashamed of? You’re an amazing person!” Not meeting his eyes, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, I’ve treated _you_ really badly in the past, hating without knowing you.” She admitted quietly

“And I treated you abominably, too. So we’re even.” He was perplexed, she felt guilt for behaving like any normal person would?

“When you saved me from that falling rock at the Western Air Temple, I – I wasn’t exactly grateful. I was downright awful.”

“You saved my life when I was falling to my death, from that same temple. So we’re still even.” His mouth curled up playfully

“Fine. You helped me go after my mother’s killer. You watched me _Bloodbend_ , Zuko” her voice rose in mild annoyance “And you didn’t say a word.”

“You helped me find _my_ mother. And you trusted me with that aspect of your gift.” He pointed out. His eyebrow rose challengingly “Still even.”

“You jumped in front of _lightning_ for me!” She nearly shouted

“And you healed me.” He retorted quietly now. “Still –“

“Gah!” She burst in frustration, jumping up from her seat and whirled to face him. “Don’t say it!” He raised both hands in a placating gesture, but remained silent. “Why are you arguing with me on this, anyway?” She huffed and turned away from him, arms crossed. He rose from his seat, and came to her side, glancing down at her downcast face.

“Because I’m not going to let you beat yourself up about the past. It’s no longer important. You have changed and grown up, and – in my opinion, at least – you are a wonderful friend to have.” He watched her brows ease as his words sank in, surprised to see a single tear trail down from the corner of her eye, as she relaxed.

“ _Now_ who’s saying exactly the right thing?” she chuckled, turning back to him. A shadow crossed her face, and she dropped her gaze to bore into his chest.

“Katara?”

Trancelike, she raised a hand until her fingertips were brushing his shirt, right above his scar.

“Why did you do it?” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting ten different emotions at once. He was trapped, he realised, unable to look away from those eyes, drowning. He swallowed, once, twice. Finally he managed to tear his eyes away and he looked down to his shoes. He knew in that instant, that he would _never_ be able to lie to her. Struggling to breathe, he met her gaze again. With every shred of courage he could muster, he held her gaze, speaking quietly.

“I couldn’t bear life without you in it.”  

Her eyes widened imperceptibly. One breath, two breaths. Without warning, she leaned up on tip toe and placed her lips on his. It was the softest brush, barely even qualifying as a kiss, and yet it impaled him to the spot. And then she was gone.  Leaving him standing frozen, one hand half-raised, staring straight ahead, as he tried to understand what had just happened.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A short one to keep you guys going (Chapter 15 is already being written), because the next couple of scenes are best kept together.
> 
> 2\. This writer is doing a massive facepalm. Can these two be any more headstrong? (I mean, it's a great trait to have in a battle, sure...) Then again, surrender to truth is so much sweeter, after a long fight.... ;)
> 
> 3\. Long note: I realised that my memory of the layout of the docks and Caldera City was a bit spotty. So, in order for some of these scenes to work, I've altered a few things (because I can):  
> a) In the years since his coronation, Zuko expanded the gardens around the palace, and added a few more wings on to the building.(you may remember that there was a huge circle of space between the building and the palace walls for defensive purposes).  
> b) The walls themselves are still pretty high, but, because Caldera City spreads up the insides of a volcano, he'd still be able to see some of the markets and houses, even at ground level.  
> c) In order to accommodate the vast number of repatriated Fire Nation colonials and decommissioned soldiers, the tract of land leading up from the docks to the main city has been terraced and populated. (Obviously other islands have been settled, too) The main road itself has been leveled a little to make the commute up the side easier. Zuko also commissioned an Earthbending team to lower the wall of the caldera on that side, making it easier for him to see the new city and the path to the docks, as well as the docks themselves, from an elevated position. (ie. his study window)  
> Yes, this has caused some political backlash. (What doesn't? ;) )

**Chapter 14**

_Dear Tui, what did I just_ do _?_

Katara leaned against her closed door, trembling from unspent adrenalin.  It had taken every ounce of control not to race back to her room. Even so, her heart was beating double-time, and her lungs felt ragged. She stared blindly at the opposite wall. _Why_ had she done it? _Why!?_ Why had she even _asked_ that stupid question?

_Because you needed to know._ A quieter more rational part of her answered. And he had understood that need. Had answered truthfully.

_Because that’s what true friends do._ She told herself

_He basically said he couldn’t live without you._ The unhelpful, sneaky voice was back – and for some reason sounded a lot like Toph. She brushed away the circling conclusion.

_No, he meant as friends. He needs people he can trust, otherwise he would have died. Or gone crazy, and_ then _died._

_Really?_ The Toph-voice sniffed, clearly unimpressed with her logical reach

_Yes! Really!_ _I mean, it’s not like he come after me for another kiss! And it’s not like that was a proper kiss anyway! I barely even touched him!_

_Suit yourself,_ the other voice seemed to shrug and faded away.

She dropped her head into her hands _Great. Now I’m hearing voices and_ arguing _with them!_ She dropped her hands and drew a gulp of air into her lungs. _It wasn’t even a proper kiss, I barely even touched him!_ She repeated more strongly.

And yet…

And yet, even that lightest brush of contact had _done_ something to her. She had acted on reflex, an overwhelming need to articulate something that couldn’t be put in words. To share the swelling emotions that his words had compounded. Emotions that had been mirrored in his eyes. She had nearly drowned in his eyes, and she had reached up to him without thinking. His lips had been firm, but soft to the touch. The moment she had touched him, a jolt of energy seemed to pass between them. Like a tiny lightning strike. She brought one trembling hand to her lips, trying to remember the feeling.

Realising what she was doing with a sharp intake of breath, she shook the thought from her mind, pushing herself away from the door. She wasn’t going to wonder if he’d felt it too! He hadn’t come chasing after her. Hadn’t done _anything_ , now that she thought about it. He’d looked more shocked than anything else.

“Great.” She said aloud. “What am I even going to say to him?”

Maybe she could blame it on moon-madness? After all, the full moon was just three days away. Maybe she could just say the moon made her do crazy things? She snorted. Yeah. That would totally work.

_It was barely even a kiss_. She repeated again. _A friendly kiss, that’s all._ She liked the sound of that.

Urgh. Supper was going to be awkward, no matter how she looked at it. Whatever she did, she resolved, she was _not_ going to think about the kiss as anything other than friendly. She was _not_ going to force unwanted attention on him again. She was _not_ going to think about the contents of that blasted letter. And she was most _certainly not_ going to think about the Water Tribe Fire Lady.

Her chin jutted obstinately, as she stood staring out the window at the garden beyond. Involuntarily, her hand came up to her lips again.

The barest whisper trailed through the air, almost unheard: _Weak knees._

*

_It didn’t mean anything!_ Zuko let out a laboured breath, muscles straining. _OK. It meant_ something, _but not in a romantic way_. He amended, another ragged breath tearing from him. _It was just all those damn emotions from the Agni Kai. We never really talked about it, and she needed closure._  He continued, feeling the burn of his abdominal muscles and biceps answer him. His entire body shook, straining as he raised himself one final time. With a final gasp, he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling of his bedchamber.

_Riiiight. And ‘_ nothing’ _has you doing push-ups on your bedroom floor in the middle of the day._ Another voice answered him sarcastically. He threw an arm over his eyes and growled.

_It doesn’t matter how it affected_ me _!_ _I_ know _I’m attracted to her. This is being blown out of proportion by that attraction._ He reasoned. _She walked away._ I’m _the one acting like a besotted idiot. I mean –_ He broke off, rolling to sit up, and shook his head. It didn’t matter that he could remember the soft warmth of her lips after less than a second of contact. She had clearly not been similarly affected. He ignored the spike of disappointment in his gut.

_Just a friendly kiss!_ He asserted emphatically. _And don’t forget it!_

Unbidden, an image rose from the darkest corner of his mind, to brush his subconscious. A Water Tribe girl wearing the Fire Lady’s crown. _The path right in front of you,_ she whispered.

*

Katara stood at the air-ship docking station, watching as the ungainly hull finally made contact and came to a halt. Two long braces were rolled underneath it and winched up to cradle the contraption’s belly. Once they were in place, the engines were cut, and the ship sagged slightly, the dawn air suddenly quiet. Toph had written ahead to say that she had swung by Kyoshi Island, before returning to the capital, and would be returning today. Her brow furrowed as she absently studied the insignia on the side of the hull.

Zuko hadn’t joined her for supper or for training, and part of her was relieved that she hadn’t had to explain her actions. The other part of her was worried that those same actions were the cause of his absence. For all that he’d left a note saying that some last minute business had come up, she wondered if he didn’t feel just as awkward as her.

_Oh stop that!_ _It was almost non-existent._

_But he was shocked_. Pointed out the rational voice.

_I didn’t stick around long enough to actually see that!_ She bristled. _I’m probably imagining all of that._

“Katara!” The familiar voice dragged her from having an all-out internal war, and she gladly pushed the voices away. She turned to see her brother and Suki approaching, Toph landing behind them from the last rung of the ladder.

And then she was swept away in bear-hugs, group-hugs, questions about her health, and exclamations of hunger. (The latter from Sokka, who didn’t seem to have out-grown his obsession with food yet.)

“So how've you been?”

“Has Zuko given you a tour of the palace yet?”

“How have you not _melted_ in this _heat_?”

“Is it too early for breakfast?”

Katara smiled and relaxed, as she answered all of them. Maybe all she needed was to be around family more, instead of just Zuko. Maybe now, she could focus on other things. She glanced at all of their faces: Sokka excited as he described some new machine he’d seen on their trip, Suki smiling benignly up at him, Toph sighing with exasperation – obviously she’d heard this story before. Everything was back to normal, she decided. Everything would be OK.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I not say this one was coming fast?

**Chapter 15**

She was going to assault someone, she decided. Her temper was fraying by the second, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold onto this courteous mask.

 _And the day had started with such promise_ , she sighed inwardly.

They’d all been met at breakfast by Zuko. The briefest pinch of dread knotted her stomach when he turned to her, but his face was inscrutable as ever and he’d offered friendly greetings, apologising for having to do business the evening before. And that was it. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened yesterday. She let out a sigh of relief when he turned to Sokka, and decided to follow his example.

Soon they were all laughing at shared stories. Zuko and Sokka got into an intense debate about some prototype machine or another, interjected loudly by Toph. Suki and Katara fell into a more feminine discussion of the latest craze for off-the-shoulder dresses, and then moved onto the less ladylike pursuit of teasing Sokka. Toph joined in before turning to Zuko and demanding to know where Iroh was. His face fell only a little as he relayed Iroh’s latest news, that he’d been blown off-course by a particularly vicious storm and would only arrive in three days. Soon enough, they were back to bickering, teasing, laughing, and being friends.

The rest of the day had been relatively lazy. Zuko had excused himself, mentioning that he had last minute details to attend to before the party that night. They’d taken to touring the gardens, until mid-day, when the heat drove them indoors. They’d been told that the party would most likely go on until late, so they’d all taken a nap, waking up as the sun set.

Sokka had tugged on a sleeveless tunic decorated with shells, and dark pants and boots. Retying his wolf-tail, he’d declared himself ready and wandered off in search of a snack. Suki and Katara had ganged up on Toph, unanimously deciding to give her a bit of feminine pampering. Despite loud protests to the opposite, she’d seemed to enjoy the attention. Then Katara and Suki had taken turns helping the other with hair-dressing and make-up. Once Suki was done, Katara had stepped back to look at her sister-in-law, marvelling at her handiwork. Even without the full Kyoshi warrior-paint, Suki was absolutely stunning. 

She turned to the mirror and gave herself a once-over. Her formal gown of midnight-blue was accented with pure white. Off-the shoulder bands of wide ribbon ran around the top of the dress dipping slightly above her bosom, adorned with tassels of white fur at her biceps, and a third hanging just below her cleavage. More ribbon had been sewn on around her hips , and the skirt was adorned with ribbon sewn in the geometric patterns of her tribe, it had also been slit up the sides to mid-thigh for ease of movement if she need to fight, but the fullness of the skirt hid the slits.  Her hair was unbound, except for a section held up with a simple whale-bone comb, the front braids looped around and similarly held. Absently toying with the pendant on her mother’s necklace, she decided that she looked good enough for the snobs and nobles. Locking arms, the three girls left the room, and headed to the party.

 _It had started so well_ , she thought grimly, resisting the urge to shove a twittering girl out of her way.

 

It had started with the staring. She didn’t let it bother her much. She knew she was an outsider; that most of these young social elites had rarely been outside Caldera City, let alone outside of the Fire Nation. She and her friends were oddities, so she wasn’t bothered.

Then, at some point she was standing alone for once – Sokka had gone off to raid the buffet, Suki had gone with to convince him to dance, Toph was charming some old metalworking tycoon, and Zuko…well, he hadn’t said more than a greeting, before being led off by an advisor to greet the next group, like a recalcitrant ostrich-horse. Then suddenly she wasn’t alone, some Fire Nation dandy with a supremely high opinion of himself appeared beside her, studying her down his long aquiline nose.

“So you’re the Water Tribe girl” he’d stated haughtily, by way of greeting. She looked away, unimpressed, face carefully neutral.

“I am the Southern Waterbending Master, yes” she’d replied lightly, willing him to take a hint. Apparently all young men were incapable of doing so, she realised with a resigned sigh, as he leaned in a little closer.

“Tell me,” He attempted to leer, failing amazingly, as his face strained to remain haughty at the same time “Have you ever had a Firebender in your bed?” She stiffened. Yes, apparently all young men were the same. Turning slowly to face him, she gave him a blindingly charming smile.

“Tell me: have you ever had _frostbite_?” Her voice grated dangerously between her teeth. Thankfully he was young, but not stupid. Paling slightly, he muttered what might have been an apology and disappeared into the crowd.

But even this hadn’t done much to annoy her. Realising that she’d minimise such encounters if she kept moving, she started walking around the lantern-lit courtyard.

 _“I heard he killed his sister, blasted her to ash, and tossed it into the bay”_ Katara paused behind a column.

 _“No, no,_ I _heard it was his_ girlfriend _! After all, has anyone seen Mai around since she broke up with him?”_  Scandalised gasps punctuated this revelation. Katara felt her hackles rising, realising the topic of conversation. Who would _dare_ say something like that about Zuko? Resolutely rounding the column, she came face to face with a group of girls. Before she could say anything, they turned as one, decorated fans snapping open to hide their faces, and walked off. Katara clenched her fists and took a steadying breath. Time for a drink, she decided.

Shortly after, Zuko stood on a specially constructed platform and thanked all of his guests for attending, declaring that dancing would begin shortly. Katara had stood close and to the left of the platform, admiring how his cloak and layered under-cloaks accentuated his strong shoulders, the Fire Lord’s pin gleaming in the lantern-light. He looked every inch a ruler: fearless, strong, confident. She smiled fondly, cocking her head slightly to the side.

A slight nudge at her elbow had her turning to find another young noblewoman standing at her side.

“So, I heard you were friends with our Fire Lord.” She nearly gushed, before regaining a little composure. Katara carefully schooled her features, resignedly. _What now_?

“I am.” She answered calmly, her face impassive. The girl leaned toward her, causing her to blink

“Is it true that he’s poor as a pauper?” She asked in hushed tones. Katara blinked again, mentally shoving the resurgence of ire.

“I’m sure I couldn’t say.” She replied stiffly “Running a country is an expensive venture.” Before the girl could ask another ludicrous question, she bowed curtly and walked in the opposite direction.

How could these people even be asking such things? He was a hero! He was their _Fire Lord_! Her temper was simmering now.

She met up with Sokka and Suki again, for more friendly conversation, but then Suki had dragged Sokka off for another dance. She didn’t see them for the rest of the evening.

She was unsure whether she should just call it a night, or stick around. But this was Zuko’s birthday celebration, and even though they’d barely shared two words with one another, she couldn’t very well leave him out here on his own. She couldn’t decide which was worse though: Standing still didn’t help, and walking around, well…

“- _heard he didn’t actually win the Agni Kai-”_

_“-never attends functions-“_

_“-maybe he’s more interested in men?”_

_“-heard he’s ransacked the coffers-“_

Downing her drink, she grabbed another from a passing servant. She couldn’t have more after this, she realised, pausing behind another column near the back of the yard. It wasn’t particularly strong alcohol, but she knew her limits. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to calm her fraying temper. This was unbelievable. These ungrateful snobs had _no idea_ what their ruler had gone through to make sure that they could carry on wearing fine clothes and dancing at parties and…and _snobbing_. She took another deep breath, and glanced about the crowd, finally seeing him somewhere near the middle. Still being dragged about and shown off to his guests. Nothing on his face indicated distress, or boredom, or…anything. A perfectly civil mask. She sighed, looking down. She could learn a thing or two about diplomacy from him.

 _“Would you?”_ Her ears picked up another hushed conversation. She glanced up. Two ladies just in front of her had their heads together, obviously studying Zuko. The shorter of the two tittered nervously.

_“Oh I don’t know…I mean, he is the Fire Lord, after all  - but”_

_“But that face.”_ The other finished for her, sympathetically. As one, they cocked their heads to the side. Katara could feel something close to bile rising in her

_“I suppose, if you always sat on his right-hand side, you wouldn’t notice it”_

_“Yes, but when you’re doing – you know …you’d have to look at him, wouldn’t you?”_

“ _When all the lights are out, it doesn’t matter!”_ They tittered for a second or two _“Besides, there are some positions that don’t require you to look at his_ face _”_ The taller girl suggested lewdly, the shorter girl’s eyes widened.

Katara’s face burned with rage. Her eyes lit on a servant passing in front of them, tray laden with drinks. Just the slightest pinch of her fingers and – She smiled in grim satisfaction, as the two crab-hens froze on the spot, dripping from head to toe with punch. She didn’t wait around, slipping out of the courtyard as mayhem broke behind her. Later, she would feel sorry for the poor servant. But right now, it was totally worth it.

*

Twin shrieks of dismay and outrage had Zuko’s head whipping up from his current conversation. With his above-average height, the source of the sound was easy to identify: two young ladies near the back of the crowd stood in a widening circle of onlookers, their arms outstretched, their horror-filled eyes taking in their gowns. They were sopping wet, and a crestfallen servant was attempting to mop them up, a tray dangling from his other hand. A flash of white drew his eye behind them, and he saw the hem of a midnight-blue skirt decorated with white disappear into one of the side-doors.

 _What on earth?_ He frowned, slightly bemused, before catching the eye of his master of ceremonies and indicating silently to deal with the problem. The busy little man bustled up to them, profuse apologies showering them, as he led them away to dry themselves off. The general hub-bub of conversation rose again, and Zuko went back to the never-ending round of politics and politeness. He’d have to find Katara later. He sighed again.

 

Thankfully, the evening drew to a close an hour later. He gave the required thanks, wishing his guests safe passage, before stepping through a door just behind the platform. His party officials and servants would show the last of them out, he knew. He unclipped the over-cloak and under-cloaks, passing them to a valet following behind him, making his way down the narrow passage – technically it was a secret passage, though its use by Fire Lords past had always been known to their personal servants. It was really just a convenient way to get from the main area of the Palace to his private suite, without running into anyone.

Once he’d reached his room, he waved off the valet, and exited the main door. All in all, the party had gone well. Apart from the unfortunate drenching of the Ladies Chang and Lo, he reminded himself. Had Katara done that? He wondered. Or was it a simple coincidental accident? He silently indicated that his personal guard should wait outside his suite, and made his way to the guest wing. Reaching Katara’s door, he noticed that light flowed under the door. She was still up. Steeling himself, he knocked softly.

After a couple of seconds, the door was whipped open, startling him. Her face was none-too-friendly either, he realised, opening his mouth to say something.

“Oh. It’s you.” She huffed, turning from the door and stomping away. He blinked, suddenly unsure whether or not he should be there at all. Swinging the door a little further ajar, he saw that she was pacing and muttering a string of words. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard something like ‘ungrateful’, ‘ignorant’, and ‘disgraceful’. He took a step into her room, conscientiously closing the door against the curious eyes of any passing servants.

He couldn’t help but stare in dumbfounded silence as she grabbed a discarded shift from the floor, balled it up and threw it into the wardrobe; a hair-brush was scooped from her bed and slammed on the vanity; a pair of sandals received the same treatment. When she couldn’t find anything else to tidy up, she yanked the water from the vanity pitcher, her fingers flexing into claws and relaxing as she paced, the water following behind her head and rhythmically freezing and melting with each twitch of her hands. He had rarely seen the Waterbender this angry.

“Katara?” He cocked his head, trying to catch her eye as she passed him. She flashed a baleful glance at him, but continued to pace. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?!” She rounded on him, the water suddenly splashing to the floor. “What’s wrong is that that… _party_ \- “ She spat the word venomously, jabbing a finger in the direction of the courtyard “-was a circus!”

His mouth opened and closed silently. He was at a loss. She spun back to her pacing, scooping the water from the floor with barely a thought.

“Those haughty _creatures_! Impugning your honour, questioning your fitness to rule, calling you a murderer, commenting on your face! They aren’t fit to be in the same _room_ as you!” Her voice had risen with each statement, and she was nearly shouting. Sudden understanding dawned, and he took a few more steps toward her.

“Katara, I knew what it would be like.” He started reasonably, spreading his hands in acceptance. She didn’t seem to hear him.

“-parading you around like a prime piece of _meat!_ Because that’s all they think: you’re some mindless doll, to adorn their pretty clothes! Not one of them is fit to be your Lady!” her voice vibrated with feeling. The ice ball shattered, raining her room with tiny shards. Silently, he agreed with her. He’d asked Toph to keep an ear open for the feeling in the crowd. The results, whispered to him in passing, had not been overly encouraging. He let out a deep sigh and took another step closer. Reaching with both hands, he caught one then both of her shoulders gently, to halt her pacing.

“Katara, _stop_.” He commanded softly, turning her to face him. She was too angry to meet his eyes though, and stared off to the side, mouth clamped firmly shut. “I understand your concern, but – “ he paused, trying to find the right words “- but I’m an aristocrat. This sort of thing is expected.”

Her head shot up, eyes incredulous. “So you just have to stand there and accept their ridicule, their vile words, their lewd comments?” She bit out. Under his fingers, she was trembling with rage. He smiled sadly at her.

“Well, not quite stand and do _nothing_.” He corrected softly “But I can’t execute every noble who disagrees with me, or says a nasty thing about me, or -”

“It isn’t _fair_!” She burst out, balling her fists at her sides “After everything you’ve done, and lost, and – They should be on their knees _thanking_ you!” She raised her eyes to his, and he recognised the turbulence of rage, despair, and pride. A crack appeared in the wall of his self-control. He ignored it.

“That’s politics, I’m afraid.” He smiled wryly. She looked down, shaking her head, muttering.

“If they knew you the way I did, they would never question you like that. You’re honest, and honourable, and kind, and beautiful, and strong, and –“

Every word she spoke was knocking another stone from the wall he’d erected around himself, he realised, almost too late. His breath caught in his throat. But before he could release her, turn and run from her room, regain control somehow, she was impaling him with her eyes. Searching his face, his eyes. There was something in those bottomless pools, mirroring the feeling that he was unable to stop from rising in himself.

“They don’t deserve you!” She whispered passionately.

The last thread of his self-control snapped.

Involuntarily, his fingers tightened, dragging her against him. His face swooped down, mouth silencing her gasp, lips brushing urgently over hers. His right hand had buried itself in the luxurious waves of hair at her nape, his left hand circling her waist. She was planted flush against him, and he was vaguely aware of her fingers clutching at his shirt. He fitted his mouth against hers, coaxing, ravenous for her softness.

Angling his head slightly, he touched his tongue to the crease of her lips. With barely a pause, she opened them, and he dove in, tasting her mouth. The tiniest moan escaped her throat, and then her tongue was meeting his, duelling, tasting him as he had tasted her. He was mindless with the scent of her, the taste of her, the feel of her against his hands.  Sheets of white lightning pulsed through him with each heartbeat, driving him to explore every inch of her, driving him to share everything he felt but could not voice.

He released her mouth, trailing nipping kisses along her jawline, her breathy gasps in his ear urging him on. Finding her racing pulse, he scraped his teeth against it before closing his lips over the spot, drawing a whimper from her as he sucked lightly. Her hands slid up his chest, nails digging into his shoulders, finally sinking into his hair, gripping his neck as he bent her slightly, his mouth searing a trail of heat from her pulse to her collarbone. His tongue dipped into the hollow there, and her head fell back, neck arching.

Katara could not string two words together, her mind overwhelmed by the sensations blooming and exploding with every touch of his lips to her skin, every brush of his fingers against her neck, along her waist, every shift of his body against hers. She didn’t know what had happened, didn’t care. Right now all she could feel was a sudden gripping need that she never realised she had. A need to get closer, to touch his skin, to taste him. She raised her lips to his jaw, mimicking his actions, her teeth closed tenderly on his earlobe, nipping. A low groan startled from him was music to her ears. She breathed the whisper of an answering moan, as her hands came forward to clasp his face, kissing his mouth ravenously in a clash of tongues and lips and teeth.

Her body was on fire, the core of the flame blazing at the very deepest centre of her, and she needed _more_. As though reading her mind, his hand smoothed down her waist, gripped her hip briefly, before travelling lower to cup and squeeze her rear. With a moan, she released his face, rising slowly on tip-toe, her hands slipping beneath the collar of his shirt to mold the muscles of his shoulders. So _warm_ , she managed to think briefly, marvelling at the movement of muscle under skin.

His hand slid lower to her thigh, strong fingers urging it up. It didn’t take much encouragement for her to hook it around his waist, the skirt smoothly falling away at the slit. The first touch of his calloused palm to the smoothly-toned skin of her thigh had her gasping against his lips, fingers digging almost painfully into his back. His other hand slid down, lending support, as he fitted her against him. The meeting of his pulsing erection and her inner heat, even through the layers of cloth between them, forced twin sounds of need from their throats. Her head fell back, and he savaged the delicate column of her neck. Fingers flexing along the sensitive underside of her thigh, sliding her skirt up as he went. He rocked against her, drawing ragged gasps from her with each increase of pressure.

He needed to get rid of these clothes, needed to feel her skin against his, needed to –

“Sokka, there you are!” They froze. Toph. Too loud. Too close. Her voice a dash of icy water.

“Yeah, I was just looking for – “ His voice became muted and a door shut. Her brother’s voice. Katara’s mind snapped into focus, and she reflexively released Zuko, stumbling back a step.

Reality solidified around them. Her bedroom, the flickering lanterns, the melting ice shards. He dragged air into his lungs, as he met her eyes. Eyes suddenly wide with comprehension, and – _fear?_

Taking a step back, then another, he battled to find his voice. Mindful of Toph and Sokka in the room next door, he rasped “I – I’m sorry”, wrenched her door open and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Toph is an excellent wingman/sentry.
> 
> Hope this curled a few toes!
> 
> (Also feel free to facepalm.)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short interlude. (17 will be up later this evening.)
> 
> Zuko is an idiot. 
> 
>  
> 
> Any resemblance to any aspect of True Blood is purely coincidental.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (PS I'm loving your comments and kudos. Please keep them coming!)

**Chapter 16**

It was like a single note of pure sound.  A bell rung at the edge of the universe, the sound approaching her so slowly she had not noticed it; always there but never acknowledged, until it was too loud not to be heard. It crested inside her, and she could do nothing but stand and stare at the space where he had been.

_Oh._

A sound next door made her vaguely aware that she didn’t want to see anyone right now. She closed the door. The cool metal of the handle infinitely colder than it should have been against her sensitised and flushed skin. She stepped back.

_Oh._

The lanterns were garishly bright against the dark dream she had just stepped out of. From a distance, she watched her hands flick the remnants of ice shards at the wicks, plunging her into darkness.

_Oh._

Her dress was too warm. She slipped it off her shoulders, shoved it off her hips, stepped out of the pool of fabric at her feet. Climbing onto her bed, she lay on top of the covers, staring unseeing at the canopy above her.

_So this is what ‘more’ feels like._

In the dark it was easier to breathe. But in the dark it was also easier to feel the asymmetrical tempo of her heartbeat. Easier to feel the puffiness of her lips.

Her fingers came up to assess the skin there. She drew a shuddering breath at the sensation.

In the dark it was easier to remember.

The firmness of his lips. The heat of his mouth. The silkiness of his hair. The strength of his fingers. The heat of his skin.

Each memory sent a pulsing flash of liquid heat from her neck to her core. She shuddered delicately around it.

 _You knew. You always knew. But you ignored it._ A quiet voice in her mind. Perceptive and final.

She closed her eyes. Swallowed. On the backs of her lids she saw his eyes in that infinitesimal  moment _before_. Gold and fire. Glowing, as though from within. A tempest of heat and light, as she’d never seen before. A melting pot of emotion. _Respect. Wonder . Desire. Adoration._

They had mirrored a feeling she hadn’t – couldn’t, wouldn’t – recognise in herself, even as it surged through her.

From the unexplored depths at the back of her mind, a primal voice raised its head, declaring the truth she had buried.

 _He is_ Mine.

*

Toph blew a lock of hair from her forehead. Being proved right had never felt this frustrating, she decided. She tapped her fingers on the table in front of her, pushing her breakfast porridge around with the spoon in her other. The return to her room had been a revelation, as she became aware of Katara shouting next door. Then there’d been quiet. And heartbeats racing. Two of them, she’d realised, eyes widening. She’d sat on her bed, half-embarrassed that she was able to see them. They were lucky she’d been alert, or Sokka would have walked right in on them.

Thankfully he was easy to manoeuvre. A quick half-lie about Katara being so angry she’d likely freeze him to the wall, and he’d easily chosen to speak to her in the morning rather. She’d regretted being the cause of Zuko’s hasty retreat, but Iroh was right: this plant needed protection, if what she’d heard at the party was anything to go on.

Katara hadn’t arrived for breakfast, pleading overindulgence in the punch last night. So she hadn’t been around to notice that Zuko wasn’t here either. Sokka and Suki didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, engrossed as they were in making plans for a shopping expedition. Toph huffed again.

 

By the mid-day meal, Toph was becoming a little worried. Katara finally made an appearance, but said and ate very little, staring off into the middle distance a lot. A clerk appeared at the door behind her.

“Master Toph, His Majesty has requested that you attend him in his study at your convenience.” He announced then left without a word.

Toph frowned, noticing the way Katara’s face had brightened, then fallen, when she realised that the message wasn’t for her. What had happened in those minutes that she’d spoken to Sokka? She didn’t want to leave Katara alone right now, since the rest of their group was still out on the town. At the same time, though, she needed to find out what was going on.

“I’d better go see what His Royal Sparkiness wants.” She announced, a little more forcefully than intended. She shot a grin at Katara, who didn’t seem to notice.

 

 Fifteen  minutes later, Toph wondered if she was going deaf.

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked, shaking her head as though to clear whatever was blocking her ears. Zuko sighed. He sounded weary and a bit ragged around the edges. He slumped further into his chair.

“I said: after everything you heard last night at the party, which of the potential… _candidates_ is least likely to make a problematic Fire Lady?” His voice was edged with a hint of impatience. He was sleep-deprived, fraying around the edges, and ready to blast a hole in his wall from frustration. Toph’s incredulous stare was not helping, even if it was directed somewhere over his shoulder.

She was silent for several seconds. She screwed a finger into her ear. Her face ran a strange gamut of emotions ranging from incredulity to anger to contempt. Her eyebrows furrowed, rose, dropped again. Her mouth slowly falling open in amazement.

“Zuko,” she finally found her voice, and it was riddled with disgust. “You are a lemur-brained _moron!_ ”

He gaped at her vehemence, realised what he was doing, snapped his mouth shut and leaned forward, scowling ominously.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I _mean_ : I gave you pure wisdom, and you’re ignoring it!” She declared. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stomped out of his study, causing the floor to rock slightly for emphasis, and leaving him with an uncomfortable spike of suspicion. How much was the brash Earthbender _actually_ able to sense with her bending?

*

“So little sister, how about it?”

Katara glanced up, realising that Sokka had been speaking to her for several minutes.

“I – I’m sorry my mind was wandering. How about what?” she blinked at him. He frowned slightly at her, but shrugged it off, excitement seizing him

“I was saying: we should all go see a play or something before Suki and I leave? Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” She smiled blandly at him. Suki turned to her, concern on her face, and she ducked her head to avoid her gaze.

“Katara are you OK? You seem out of sorts.” The older girl asked quietly, though not quietly enough to avoid Sokka’s notice.

“Yeah, Katara, you look washed-up, what’s up?” Suki glared at him

“Washed-up? Really?”

“What? She does!” He shrugged, and both of them turned to her. She tried to give a better smile, and met both their eyes.

“I’m OK, really. I’m just still a bit worn from the party last night.”

“Yeah, that was some party, wasn’t it?” Sokka stared happily into the middle distance reminiscing, “Who knew the jerkbender could lay out such a fine spread?”

“Sokka!” Suki turned her attention back to him, letting Katara relax again.

“What?”

“We don’t insult our host in his own home.” She poked a finger in his arm for emphasis.

“Yeah OK.” He shrugged again. “Anyway, I was just complimenting him. I mean what a party! Am I right, Toph?” He turned to the Earthbender.

“Yeah. Some party.” came the half-hearted reply. Katara realised she hadn’t said much of anything since she’d returned from seeing Zuko, and she was now pushing the food around her plate with extra force. She leaned close to the girl, mindful of her big-mouthed brother.

“Toph? Are you OK?” She breathed. Toph slammed her chopsticks onto her plate.

“I’m fine.” She snapped, and rose from the low table. “I’m going for a walk.”

For a second they all watched her leave in astonishment.

“What’s with her?” Sokka broke the silence. Katara rose to follow Toph.

Catching up to her in an unlit section of the garden, she put a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder.

“What’s happened?” She asked coaxingly. Toph stood still for a few seconds, chewing the inside of her lip, clearly trying to choose the right words.

“Zuko asked me to help  him last night. To report what people were saying behind his back. This morning, he asked me to advise on which one of those Fire Nation _brats_ he should choose for a wife.” She stated matter-of-factly. Without another word, she stomped off again, every line of her saying she did not want company.

Katara’s heart dropped as she comprehended what Toph was saying. _“I’m sorry”_ he’d said, as though he’d injured her. She hadn’t understood then why he said it.

Almost as swiftly, a low burning anger lit in her. After everything they had done. After the earth-shattering realisation she had been _forced_ to make in the pre-dawn dark this morning! She felt her fist tightening. He was going to get a proper earful from her the moment she saw him tomorrow, she decided. He wasn’t getting away from her without a fight. A ghost of a whisper echoed in agreement. _He is mine._

*

But Zuko wasn’t at breakfast. So she waited, and ended up being dragged out to a matinee in the Middle-city with her brother and sister-in-law. When they returned, she ghosted around the palace. A servant confirmed that he hadn’t left his private suite, and would not be likely to for the next day either.

She was met at the main doors to his suite, by a pair of guards who – for the first time since her arrival – barred her entrance. She stepped back in disbelief, fighting the urge to bend them out of her way.

“I’m sorry, Master Katara,” the younger of the two bowed to her slightly, his face apologetic. “We’re under strict instructions that no-one is permitted to enter the Fire Lord’s suite at this time.”

“Why? Is he sick?” she blabbered nonsensically, trying to think of something she could say to convince him. “I could heal him.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I couldn’t say. But our orders are from the Fire Lord himself.” He caught her eye and quivered at the ferocious look she was giving him. Relenting, she huffed.

“Very well.” She said quietly, and walked away.

He wanted to play this game? He was going to lose, she decided. She innocently suggested to Sokka that they explore the upper-city shops one last time before he and Suki left that evening, and discreetly bought what she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katara will say the words when she's good and ready. ;)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially my longest chapter, I think.
> 
> But hey, if you made it this far, then you deserve this one. 
> 
> And boy, did this take a lot out of me.

**Chapter 17**

Katara studied herself in the mirror. The slate-grey tunic and leggings had come at a bargain, bought separately from two different merchants, as she’d wandered around the upper-city with Sokka. She gathered her hair and tucked it into the collar of the tunic. Her water-skin was dug out from the bottom of the wardrobe and quickly filled from the vanity pitcher. She looped it into her sash and settled it comfortably on her hip. Finally she tied a black bandana around her neck, leaving enough slack for it to be pulled up over the lower half of her face.

She took several steps back and paused. She had seen her brother and Suki off that evening on a passenger liner. And then had come the long wait through supper, and past the midnight hour, as she waited for the palace to settle down. Now she was impatient to go. But she needed to plan. It had been years since she’d had to sneak around anywhere.

She considered her possibilities. Going through the inside of the Palace, she ran the risk of running into a servant even at this hour; and there was the problem of getting into his suite from the inside. She’d have to exit the main building at some point anyway. Going through the gardens seemed like a better idea: sneak out of her window, cling to the walls. Of course there was a chance that he would post guards outside his suite as well. There had been no new assassination attempts in recent years, but only a foolish ruler would discount the possibility…

A soft tap at her door made her jump. Who on earth would be awake at this hour?

Cracking it open slightly, she was surprised to see Toph standing there. Without a word, the younger girl shoved the door open, took a step inside and quickly closed it behind her.

”Toph, what are you –“

“There’s a change of guards in five minutes. Your best bet is the leeside of the roofs. Stay as low as you can, and keep an eye out for movement in the main tower.” She absently massaged a fist. Katara gaped.

“How did you know?”

“Apparently I’m the only person in this stupid palace who _isn’t_ blind.” Toph shrugged, a feral smile lighting her face. Before Katara could respond, she was gone.

She was going to have to talk to Toph when she got back, she realised, as she paced to her window. But right now…she raised her face to the sky, drawing strength from the moon. It was full tonight, and she wondered if this whole plan wasn’t just lunacy. She shoved the thought from her mind. Time was getting short. She scooted onto her window ledge, keeping an eye out for guards, and vaulted to the decorative eaves above her.

*

Zuko stared at the dark canopy above him. It had been nearly impossible to sleep, since…

 _Since you ravaged Katara._ He berated himself _Just admit it. You lost control, and assaulted her._

He screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his hands down his face.

A muffled sound had him freezing mid-motion. He leaned up on his elbows. It had sounded like it was on his roof. He narrowed his eyes listening. Nothing. Probably a bird shuffling up there, or something. He slowly lowered himself again.

He had barely laid his head back down, when a shadow tumbled into the window near the bed. Acting on instinct, he dove to the floor, shooting a fireball at the shadow, before rolling up into a defensive stance. Just in time to see the fire fizzle against a stream of water which then slid back into a water-skin at the shadow’s hip. The shadow stood silently watching him. He straightened slightly, realisation dawning.

“ _Katara?_ ”

Katara yanked the bandana down from her face. Suddenly she wasn’t sure what to do next. She hadn’t counted on their meeting starting like this; hadn’t actually figured out how it should go, if she were honest. And now she was standing here, and couldn’t find her voice. She realised that she had been studying his chest, realised that he wore nothing but sleeping pants. She snapped her eyes down. This was going to go nowhere if she got distracted like that.

As nonchalantly as she could, she leaned against the wall next to the window. Crossing her arms, she bit her lip.

“You know, of all the words I could choose to describe you, I never thought ‘coward’ would be one of them.” She stated. _Let him chew on that!_ She thought. He had started round his bed to approach her, but halted at her words, frowning.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, Zuko, that you don’t get to kiss me like _that_ and then run away without a word.” She shoved away from the wall and took two steps toward him. Despite her nonchalance, she could feel her face heating up, thankful that the dark hid her blush. Zuko took a deep breath and studied the carpet at his feet.

“I said I was sorry.” He mumbled. Katara blinked at him.

“Sorry for what? For kissing me? For _barring_ me from seeing you?”

“I did that to protect you!” His head shot up, and saw her step closer.

“Protect me from what, Zuko?” She took another step. He was starting to feel panic. The air between them was suddenly thick and cloying. He hadn’t been able to reconstruct his control. If she got too close – “Protect me from _what_?” she repeated, her voice wrapping around him.

“From _me_!” He burst out, unable to stop himself. She paused, brows furrowing.

“Why would I need protection from you?” Her voice was suddenly breathless and he found himself taking a step toward her, his feet moving of their own volition. He took a steadying breath.

“I lost control, Katara,” his voice rasped quietly. He swallowed, shame blossoming in his chest. “I practically attacked you. Like a – like an animal.” She was quiet for several seconds, mouth shaping a small ‘oh’. She shook her head. _I don’t need protection from you_! She thought, eyes suddenly flashing. She took another step, bringing her within an arm’s length of him. He stiffened, fighting the urge to either step back or grab her.

“So - what? I just stood there like a statue and let you have your ‘ _wicked way’_ with me?” she bit out. He flinched. “Your memory seems to be faulty. Because you don’t seem to remember that I _kissed you back_. That I touched you too. That I – “

“ _Stop!_ ” He whispered vehemently, his fists clenching against the urge to touch her. He screwed his eyes shut, her words dragging each memory into stark clarity; her mouth on his, her fingers on his skin, her breathless moans, her eyes wide with….He drew a ragged breath, eyes still shut.  “I saw your fear.” He whispered, throat closing. Katara hesitated.

He thought she was afraid of him.

Her anger evaporated, replaced with another warmth, a softer endearing warmth that drove her to touch him, to soothe him. Zuko flinched at the unexpected coolness of her hand against his ruined cheek. His eyes shot open and met hers. Luminous blue pools in the ambient moonlight. His lips parted, as a tremble of desire shot through him. He tensed against the urge to lean his face into her palm.

“Yes I was afraid.” She murmured “I was a little afraid that my brother would walk in on us and start a scene, and – “ she stopped. Dropped her gaze to the floor, searching for the right words. Her hand slid slowly from his face, fingers tracing a line from his jaw down his neck. The urge to _touch_ too strong to control. She looked up, capturing his gaze with hers, absently marvelling at the small tremors coursing through him, from just the touch of her fingers. She licked her lips “-and I was afraid of myself. I – I’ve never felt this before, Zuko.”

Her eyes pleaded, even as her fingers played merry hell with the muscles of his chest. He couldn’t breathe as he focussed on the trail of coolness being drawn down his fevered skin. Her hand reached his abdomen and he reflexively caught it before it could trail any further, eyes never leaving hers. He absently realised that his thumb was drawing circles in her palm, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Couldn’t remember why he should, as her words sank in.

He was finding it very difficult to think coherently. Could only feel. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. And then she was moving, taking a last step, her hand tightening in his for support, as she rose on her toes, eyes never leaving his. Slowly, softly, she brought her lips to his. Brushing lightly, tightening gently, first against his upper lip then lower, in the most exquisite torture. She was breathing fast, each inhale brushing her breasts against him. He found that his breathing matched hers, shallow, quick. Still holding his gaze, she pressed her lips more firmly against his, her free hand coming to rest against the column of his neck. Parting her lips slightly, she drew the tip of her tongue delicately along his bottom lip.

As delicate as a butterfly’s wing, her touch broke his resolve.  With a low growl, his lips parted against hers, teeth nipping at her full bottom lip, before his tongue sank into her mouth. His grip on her captured hand tightened, pulling her fully against him, before releasing and curving up to sink into her hair. His other hand gripped her waist, long fingers splayed against her back, holding her against him.

She could feel the hard length of his manhood pressing just above her hip, and an answering coil of heat shot through her. She shuddered against him, her hands stroking his neck, tracing the lines of muscle to his shoulders, sliding down over the skin of his chest, then around and up, over his ribs, his back, revelling in the heat of his skin – all that skin that she could now touch. Her tongue danced around his, massaging, exploring his mouth.

He dragged his mouth from hers, tracing her jaw with his lips, she answered in kind nipping at the place where jaw joined his throat. He breathed into her ear, tried to taste her neck. Found a bandana in the way. Frustrated, he growled again, as his fingers fumbled with the knot. Noticing his problem, she gave a low throaty chuckle, her voice vibrating through him. Her hands came up and yanked the bandana away with a sharp tug, before coming back to his upper arms, her mouth closing over his pulse, teeth nipping. He drew a shuddering breath, heat spiking through him.

His hands skittered over her, her shoulders, her back, the swell of her rear, her ribs. A thumb teased at the underside of her breast, and her lips released his skin in a light gasp. Encouraged, his hand gently slid up to cup her, squeezing lightly. She moaned, back arching to push herself against him. He swooped down to draw a line down her throat with his tongue. She trembled as he continued down the line of her collar, laving the area just above the swell, were her cleavage peeked from the hem of the tunic, his hands tenderly kneading her through the fabric.

She was wearing too many clothes, she thought. Zuko’s mouth was driving her into a frenzy and she needed _more_. As if hearing her need, his hands came to her sash, pulling at the tie impatiently, until it gave way, the weight of the water-skin, dragging it to the floor. The tunic fell open, his hands sliding it to the edge of her shoulders, his mouth tracing lines of fire along her collarbone. She gripped his upper arms for support, her back arching. The feel of his hands on her skin was sending little shocks of heat through her. His mouth trailed up her throat, finally settling on hers in an intense kiss, as the tunic fluttered to the ground. His hands settled on her hips, fingers splaying around to dig into her soft flesh, thumbs making her abdomen dance as they circled the skin just above her waistband.

She whimpered as he broke contact, leaned away from her. Her eyes opened, searching for him. His gaze travelled down her bared torso, slowly, reverently. She could feel a flush rise up her neck from the intensity of his regard. She licked her lips. He met her gaze, holding it, as he reached for the loose end of the binding of her breast band. She stood frozen, holding her breath, heart fluttering at the brush of his knuckles at the skin of her ribs. The slightest pressure, and she felt the fabric give way, slowly sliding down her skin. He deftly loosened the ties further until the band slid easily over her hips.

Agonisingly slowly, he let his gaze slide down again. The slender line of her neck, the soft slope of her shoulders, and finally, the perfect curve of her breasts. Shadowed in the partial moonlight. Rising and falling with uneven breaths, the perfect dark nipples puckering under his regard. His fingers tightened at her hips, urging her forward and she followed his unspoken cue, hands sliding up his arms, to clasp behind his neck. Slowly, almost unbearably slowly, she brought her unclad torso into contact with his, mouth parting around a sharp intake of breath, as the swell of her breasts flattened against his chest. The slightest shift of her weight rubbed the sensitive tips against his hot skin, jolts of pure pleasure shooting from her breast to her core, with each movement. The callouses on his large hands caused more jolts on her back, as he explored her silky skin.

He lowered his mouth to hers, teasing her, brushing her lips, tasting them with little touches of his tongue, but as soon as she tried to deepen it he shifted from her mouth. His urgent need to be melded with her stilled by the suddenly greater need to worship and awaken very inch of her body. She whimpered in frustration, fingers digging into his neck, but he kept going at that measured pace. Torturing every nerve-ending, as his mouth travelled down, fingers drawing circles on the skin of her back and shoulders. His tongue dipped again into the hollow at her collarbone, nipping slightly, before continuing further, tongue and lips tracing a line to the top of her breastbone. His hands slid lower, to the curve of her waist, imperceptible pressure urging her to lean back. He let his breath tease the edges of her breasts, lips ghosting in the air just above them, her scent nearly driving him berserk. She was squirming in his arms now, desperate for this torture to end.

Unable to stop himself anymore, he closed his lips around one trembling peak, dragging a ragged gasp from her. His tongue swirled around the hardened tip, teasing, tasting. Anchoring her with one arm, he brought a hand up to the other breast, fingers exploring the curve, the softness, before cupping her and circling his thumb lazily around the aureole, mimicking his tongue. Every breath from her was a gasp, a moan, her fingers gripping him for dear life. He tightened his arm around her, his thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple. He increased the pressure of his mouth, sucking , teased at the other side with thumb and forefinger. She cried out, back arching further, reaching for more. His possessive growl answered her.

She was mindless with need now, desperate for release from this sensual torture, yet never wanting it to stop. Everything he did seemed to stoke the inferno in her further, as though he was tugging a line that connected directly to her core. His mouth released her breast, and she nearly cried out in disappointment. The sound stilled, as he closed his lips around the other breast, tongue soothing where his fingers had been. His hand slid from her breast, lightly trailing meandering spirals along her ribs, down her abdomen, her muscles involuntarily jumping at their passing. She nearly unravelled, when the tips dipped just beneath the waistband, almost skimming the curls that sheltered her most private area, before retreating to her hip again.

She writhed against him, straining. Hands slipped to his face, gripping almost painfully. She dragged his mouth to hers, cold air teasing the place where his tongue had been. Her mouth clashed with his, devouring him. She needed to taste him, his mouth, his neck, his chest. She trailed her teeth along his jugular, nipped at his pectoral. Her frenzy was infectious, and he found himself dragging her against him, fingers slipping beneath her waistband to cup her rear. His large hands spread on her skin, so close to that pulsing core had her groaning against his chest. The pressure of his fingers, urging her to rise on her tip toes. On instinct, she hooked one leg around his waist, trapping his hand inside her leggings. His fingers kneaded the plump swell, and he captured her mouth in a devastating, ravenous kiss.

He slipped his other hand from her leggings, immediately placing it on the outside, running his fingers to her a thigh. With a slight dip, he gripped the back of her knee and brought her other leg up, bearing her full weight. The moment her ankles locked around him, she was brought into intimate contact with his throbbing erection. A trembling moan fell into his mouth, and he tightened his grip on her increasing the pressure, straining for the heat between her thighs. Her head fell back. She was seeing stars.

With what little conscious thought he had left, he managed to walk them to the bed, nearly tripping, at the edge. He laid her down slowly, her arms and legs locked around him forcing him to bend down with her, until he was lying on top of her. He leaned up on his elbows, meeting her eyes. They were slightly dazed, desire roiling in their depths. He took a deep shuddering breath.

Taking advantage of a slightly clearer head, he gently unlocked her hands from his neck. Trailing his fingers down her arms, her shoulders, her chest, her abdomen, finding the fabric at her hips. He looked into her eyes. She was more alert now, studying him, biting her lip, waiting. Slowly he hooked his thumbs under the hem. He found the edge of her under-binding as well, and slowly slid them both from her hips, fingers flexing over the skin of her legs as he tugged the fabric down. She shivered at his touch but lay still. At her ankles, he made short work of slipping her shoes off, before finally dropping her leggings to the floor, and straightened up to look at her.

She leaned up, rose to her knees. Her breathing was a little more steady now. She placed a trembling hand on his chest.

“I want to see you in the light.” She whispered, eyes locking with his. He bent down to place a tender kiss on her forehead, his hand flicking out to light the candles beside the bed. At the first flicker of light, she leaned back. They drank each other in through their eyes. Exploring every plane, every shadow.

“How are you so beautiful?” he breathed reverently, like a prayer. Her heart nearly burst. In answer, she rolled to her knees again, and kissed him, her hands travelling down to untie the chord of his pants. With a whisper, the satin slipped from him. Still kneeling, she let her eyes rake over him again, thrilling at the evidence of his desire. She hadn’t expected it to be quite so _big_. She glanced up at him again, hesitant. He leaned down and kissed her.

“Move to the pillows.” He breathed into her ear, causing delicious shivers to course through her. She scooted backward, watched as he followed on his knees. Hours of bending practice making his movements lithe and powerful, like a large predator. Her breath caught in her throat as she met his eyes. Gleaming gold and hypnotic, send a blazing shock of desire through her. He reached her, one hand trailing along her leg from her ankle, as he rose above her on one arm. The heat that had consumed her long minutes ago flared again, and the need along with it. Her knees spread, as he settled between them, the heavy weight of his manhood pressing against the sensitive skin at the crux of her thigh.

She took a trembling breath, hand sliding up his chest, to nestle on his cheek. He pressed his face into it, his eyes melting her as he gazed silently at her face. Her fingers urged him down, and their lips met with a new urgency. Her hands skated over his back, arching up to press every inch of skin against him. Her fingers travelled his unexplored hips, curving over his taut butt, and he growled. She gasped in shock, as his hand trailed to the curls between her legs, deft fingers finding her slick folds, easing between, stroking, a thumb slowly circling the pearl crowning them. Her legs widened and she strained, trying to get closer, nails digging into his hips. He dipped a single finger shallowly inside her, her wetness nearly driving him over the edge.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Gripping his shaft, he positioned the head at her entrance, mouth swooping down to swallow her gasp, as he drove inside her to the hilt.

She stiffened, a pained whimper escaping into his mouth.

He froze. Eyes flying open. He carefully leaned up on his elbows, shock written on his face

“Katara? I – “ He swallowed, saw a tear of pain escaped the corner of her eye.

“I’m fine. I just need to…to wait for a second.” She breathed. His stomach clenched with guilt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise….I – I thought you had – with – “ Her fingers on his lips silenced him and he met her eyes again.

“I didn’t. It wasn’t right, with - ” She stopped, not willing to let another person intrude on this moment. She stroked his cheek, her eyes speaking volumes. _Only you,_ they said. _Always you._ His breath caught, his chest splitting open with the feeling he’d tried to contain. Gently, he bent down, ignoring the unbelievable sensation of her warm tightness squeezing him. When they were nose to nose, he paused, looking her in the eye, breathing words he’d tried to ignore for so long.

“I love you.”

She shivered against him, and he captured her mouth, trying to show her with his lips, with his hands, with his entire being, just how much he loved her. Slowly, he inched out of her, almost to the tip, then just as slowly slid back. Katara’s mouth opened in a silent gasp, as the foreign sensation of being filled changed into something entirely different. Heat slowly but surely stoking in her as he withdrew and slipped in again. A heat to match the sun bursting in her chest. Suddenly this was more than just desire. This was the need to share everything she was with this man.

The pain had disappeared, and in its place was a ravenous need. She needed _more._ Instinctively, her hips came up to meet him with the next slow thrust, demanding more, her fingers digging insistently in his back. He sank into her with more force, drawing a fevered cry from her. Drawing back and plunging in, faster, harder, her cries spurred him on. Short breaths dragged from him to match her.

She was reaching for something, each thrust bringing her closer and closer to a precipice. A low fire was consuming her from the tips of her toes. It was driving her wild, her head thrown back, her breath squeezing from her, as he rocked against something inside her that sent a tsunami of heat through her. Her inner muscles tightened around him, preparing. He hit that spot again, thrusting now with an intense pace. Once, twice.

His name was torn from her lips, as her muscles went rigid, a pulsing heat tearing her apart from the inside out. Her eyes shot open, her vision clouded with bursts of light. Zuko could feel her walls closing around him, squeezing him. He shuddered as her release gripped him, forcing him over the edge. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her name into her hair, his abdomen clenching as his seed exploded into her.

He collapsed, lungs pumping great gulps of air. They lay like that for long seconds, but, worried that he would crush her, he rolled over, slipping out of her. She grumbled a little, but rolled with him. Exhausted, she placed a kiss on his neck.

“I love you too, Zuko” She breathed, as her eyelids slid closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck, THEY deserved this. I deserved this. We ALL deserved this.


	18. Chapter 18

I am very very sorry to tell you all, but it looks like this particular fic (and probably all fic-work) will be put to rest for now. For a couple of reasons:

1\. Most important: Work is getting a little out of hand, and I've discovered what happens when I focus on a work like this (ie. nothing else can happen in my brain until I'm released by the story again.)

2\. I...kinda sorta maybe got press-ganged onto another 'ship in a different fandom, and I'm actually finding it impossible to focus on more than one at a time. (For what it's worth, this new 'ship possesses a potential redemption arc to match Zuko's. ;) )

Thank you all so so much for the comments and kudos, and I promise I will come back to finish this story!


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